Chapter 13 #2
I crossed the room slowly, every creak of the old wood floor under my sneakers loud in the quiet, and stopped in front of the coffee table. With a deep breath, I sank to the floor and opened the letter.
Well, shit.
A laugh stuttered out of me, tears gathering in my eyes at the first words on the page. I could hear it in Violet’s voice, as if she was sitting right there on the couch after a long day.
Messed this one up, didn’t I?
I keep thinking there’s a better way to start this, something softer or smarter, but you know me—I was never great at pretending things weren’t what they were. And you’ve always been able to hear the truth in my voice anyway, even when I tried to hide it.
You’ve always been my sunshine girl. No matter how awful life got, you were the one who believed tomorrow would be better. That there was a silver lining somewhere if we just kept moving. You were so sure we were almost out of the dark, even when we were standing knee-deep in it.
And I couldn’t be the one to drag you back there again.
By the time I understood how bad the cancer was, there was nothing left to do. No plan. No miracle. Just time running out. I made a choice—a selfish one—and I didn’t tell you.
I told myself I was protecting you. That I was being your big sister one last time, because that’s what I’ve always tried to do, whether I was any good at it or not. I couldn’t stand the thought of being your Third. First Mom. Then Maggie. And if you’re reading this, now me, too.
I couldn’t watch that happen to you again.
So I stayed quiet. I carried it by myself. And I’m sorry, Dais. I know that an apology fixes nothing, but it’s still true.
I know what I’ve left behind. The house. The mess. Junie. None of it was supposed to land in your lap, and I hate that it did. But I also know how much my sweet girl loves you, and I trust you with her more than anyone in the world. That part was never a question for me.
You might have been surprised to see Ty’s name beside yours in the paperwork, but know that wasn’t an afterthought. I chose him carefully, and I need you to trust me on this.
I don’t want this to be what breaks you. I want it to be what roots you. What reminds you who you are when everything feels like it’s slipping sideways.
Even if you don’t believe that yet, I do.
If I know you (and I really, really do), you’re crying right now, and you hate crying. So here’s what we’re going to do.
Today is not a Sad Day.
Today, you get one more day to pretend that I’m just gone a little longer than expected. That you’re here to watch Junie until I get back. You get one more day to be stubborn and in denial, because honestly, that’s how you’ve survived everything else life has thrown at you.
Tomorrow can be heavy. Tomorrow can hurt like hell.
But not today.
Today, you’re going to ignore the paperwork sitting somewhere nearby. (Yes, I know you haven’t opened it yet. Don’t make that face.) You’re going to grab the gardening gloves in the bucket by the porch, pull some weeds, and breathe in the mountain air like we used to.
And you’re going to press play on the little stereo.
I love you, Daisy Winslow. Always have. Always will. You’re stronger than you think, and I tried my best to make sure you don’t have to do this alone.
To the moon,
V
A sob hiccuped out of me, but I smiled through the tears as I wiped the back of my hand across my face. My fingers trembled when I reached for the little CD player and popped the lid. Inside was a burned CD I vaguely remembered, Violet’s handwriting scrawled across the silver plastic.
The Anti-Frown.
Of course it was.
I let out a soft, broken laugh, remembering all the mix CDs she’d made over the years. Music had always been our escape hatch—something we could slip through together when everything else felt too heavy. I snapped the lid closed, and the player hummed as it whirred to life.
The opening notes of Footloose blasted through the room at full volume.
I ducked my head, grinning through watery eyes, and waited for the lyrics to kick in.
My foot started tapping almost immediately, then my head followed, the beat tugging at me whether I wanted it to or not.
I could see it so clearly—the summer Violet and I had memorized the dance, laughing our way through every wrong step.
When the chorus hit, something cracked open inside me just enough to let the pressure out.
I stood, the music thrumming through the studs and floorboards. The CD player was scuffed and ancient, but I scooped it up anyway and tucked it under my arm.
By the door sat a pair of Violet’s heart-shaped sunglasses and, like any good little sister, I claimed them as mine. The world tinted pink—too bright, a little ridiculous, and exactly what I needed.
Outside, the mountain air rushed against my cheeks, cool and sharp. I set the stereo on the porch railing and cranked the volume, letting the music spill out across the yard.
I kicked off my shoes and hopped down into the grass, toes curling as I threw my arms up and sang at the top of my lungs. I twirled, stumbled, laughed—and kept going. Tears streaked hot down my cheeks, but I didn’t stop. I just wiped them away with the heel of my hand and danced harder.
It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t even good. But for the first time in days, I could breathe.
Nothing about this place made sense without her. Not the house. Not the sun warming my shoulders. But the music did. And for a little while, it felt like Violet was right there with me, laughing and dancing as she always had.
When the chorus rolled around again, I didn’t slow down. I spun until I was dizzy, flinging my arms wide, singing with zero concern for pitch or dignity.
When the song ended, I sprinted back to the porch and smacked the CD player to start it again. This time, I went all in—every ridiculous, half-remembered move from that summer.
By the second chorus, my hair clung to my neck and my cheeks ached from smiling, and I didn’t care. I spun once more, then collapsed backward into the grass, staring up at the endless Colorado sky as the music played on.
For one long, impossible heartbeat, there was nothing but the sun, the breeze, the beat, and Violet’s ghost tangled up in all of it.
No court hearings.
No grief.
No next steps.
Just this.
The distant crunch of tires on gravel broke the spell sometime later. I propped myself up on my elbows, squinting toward the driveway as Emmy’s SUV came into view.
She slowed when she spotted me splayed out in the grass, music still blaring through the valley. When she parked and stepped out, her ponytail swung as she took me in with an amused grin.
“You good?” she asked, hands braced on the top of the door like she might need to call for backup.
“What? You don’t think a dance party is normal grief behavior?” I scrambled to my feet, brushing grass off my jeans, and hurried to turn down the volume.
As if mocking me, the next song that came on was Stayin’ Alive.
The irony punched me right in the chest. Emmy’s eyebrows shot up, her gaze bouncing between me and the little stereo, not sure if she should laugh or hug me.
A laugh ripped out of me first—sharp, unhinged, and way too loud—and then I doubled over, clutching my chest as I lost it to a fit of giggles. When I finally straightened, breathless and sniffling, Emmy leaned against the side of her car, her mouth curved in a barely contained grin.
“I mean,” she said, “you seem good.”
“Sure,” I said, sliding my heart-shaped sunglasses up onto my head. “Hell of an impression I’ve made.”
Emmy waved me off. “Please. I know everything I need to know about you already.”
My eyebrows rose. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
Her gaze flicked toward Ty’s house, then back to me. “You’re still here. And that means you’re holding it together in the absolute shitstorm life handed you. Or… okay, maybe not together”—she nodded toward the stereo—“but I’ll give you points for flair.”
I smiled. “Joke’s on you. I have no idea what I’m doing. I love Junie more than anything, but I don’t know how to take care of a kid.”
“Yes, well, welcome to the club.”
I blinked at her. “What?”
She shrugged. “I’ve got a teenager. Half the time parenting’s just making shit up and hoping you don’t scar them for life. Or at least only in new and exciting ways. You’ll figure it out. We all do.”
She pushed off the car and came a few steps closer. “Besides, you’ve got a cheat code.”
I huffed a laugh. “And what’s that?”
“Ty.” She pointed up at his house. “My brother is freakishly good at this. He adores Junie, and your niece worships him. Which is still baffling to me, because this is the same man who once told me licking a frozen pole wouldn’t make my tongue stick.
And let’s not even talk about when he swapped out my shampoo for maple syrup. ”
I snorted. “Ah, to be the younger sibling.”
“A true survival test.” Emmy grinned. “But my point is, Ty will hold down the fort while you get your feet under you. That’s just who he is, and your sister knew that about him. You’ve got a whole crew who’s got your back. You don’t have to be perfect, Daisy. You just have to be present.”
I stared at her for a long moment, something raw and grateful working its way through me.
“Yeah,” I finally said, turning toward Violet’s house. “I’m trying.”
Cluck Norris crowed from behind us, and Emmy went back to her car. “Need anything while I’m running errands in Glenwood Springs? Groceries? Target run? Rooster defense system?”
I laughed, the sound a little shaky but real. “Maybe some chicken nuggets I can eat in front of Cluck Norris so he knows we aren’t on speaking terms.”
Emmy tossed her head back and cackled. “I knew I liked you.”
My smile lingered even as my chest ached. But just behind the lightness, the weight settled back in. Chicago. My things. The note I’d left behind. The mess I wasn’t ready to face.
Not now.
Before she backed out of the driveway, Emmy rolled down her window and tossed something out. A business card fluttered through the air and landed in the grass.
“My number,” she said. “Also, I own the Pilates studio in town. There’s a private class on Tuesday nights with a few friends. You should come sometime.”
I picked it up, tapping the Elevation Pilates logo against my palm as I looked back at her.
She was staring at the house now, two faint lines between her brows. “Are you sure you’re okay alone?”
I followed her gaze, taking in the visual representation of the wreckage my life was.
“Yeah,” I said. “Today, I think I am.”
Violet had given me permission for one more day of denial, sunshine, and bad dancing.
And today, I was going to take it.