Page 149 of Late Nights & Love Lines
“Seren, you’re on, kiddo,” Leo says, wrapping her in a giant hug.
She smiles, and walks to the stage, wiggling her fingers at me on the way.
Now I do cross my fingers and my toes because sometimes a girl needs all the luck she can get.
Seren takes a seat at the piano, then bows her head. All her new friends are here, but so is half the town. They fill in the pavilion and line the walkways surrounding it all in a show of support for the children with the courage to put themselves on display.
She’s so much stronger than I ever was.
Her hands rest above the keys, and she lifts her head, but nothing happens.
Sebastian’s gaze cuts from her to me and back again. I can only see the side of her face from here, but her neck works to swallow, and I fear that stage fright has taken over.
I step forward as Sebastian stands up. It all happens in the span of a moment that feels as though it stretches for an eternity.
He nods for me to go, and I scurry across the stage, taking a seat with her at the piano, the same way her father did for me all those years ago. The difference is that this time no one will stop her. No one will rip her from the stage and irrevocably alter her life.
This is the moment where she can step away from her trauma and forge her own path forward, and I’m the luckiest runaway on the planet because I get to be the one to help her do it.
In a lot of ways, it’s helping me too.
“Take a breath, Ser. I’m right here,” I whisper, shuffling around sheets of music to create a diversion. “You’ve got this.”
“Yeah, I kind of panicked.”
“I’m right here as long as you need me. I’ll flip your music sheets for you if you want me to stay.”
“That’s not my music,” she says, staring at the pieces of paper before her.
“I know. But they don’t,” I say, nodding toward the crowd.
“Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” She places her fingers back on her keys and leans toward the microphone. “This song is called ‘Stay.’ Rowan has spent the last two months helping me write it, but the song has always been about her.”
My throat closes up. All this time I thought the song was a plea for her mother to come back, to stay with her.
It’s about me?
Tears stream down my face as she sings.
Night and day,
But we got you to stay.
The chorus plays on repeat in my mind long after she’s finished, after the crowd gives her a standing ovation, even after the talent show ends and we all find our way to the bonfire.
My life is night and day from what it was a few months ago, and there’s nothing I want more than to stay.
Spotting Lottie, I immediately head in her direction, studying the interaction between her and Thane.
I thought it was suspicious when he suddenly stopped calling the hotline, but I’ve been so caught up in life I didn’t pursue it.
They stop talking abruptly when I approach. “Everything okay?” I ask, searching both of their faces. Lottie is obviously annoyed, but Thane’s expression is almost—fiery. Observing them now, it could be anger or love that’s turning his face an impressive shade of red.
“Fine,” Thane grits out, then spins on his heel and marches away.
I lift a brow in Lottie’s direction. She shrugs and then collapses into one of the Adirondack chairs.
“It’s complicated,” she says preemptively.
