Chapter 29 #2
“You could have reached out. You could have been her sister without letting the money get between you.”
“Easier to say when you were the one she loved.”
“Her letter said she loved you. That never changed.”
“I’ve read that letter more times than I care to admit. You don’t need to remind me of what it said.”
“Clearly I do if you’re still playing the victim.”
“Victim?” There’s venom in her tone. “You have no idea the road I’ve had to take.”
“But you weren’t orphaned when you were sixteen.”
Miranda blinks at me and eases her stance. “No, I wasn’t.”
I press a hand to my chest. “Miranda, this is hard for me. I don’t know you. I don’t know this town or this school. Everything is upside down. You look like my mother, but you act nothing like her. It hurts. Looking at you hurts. Listening to you hurts. Being around you hurts.”
“I…” she stumbles on the word. “I look like your mother?”
My brows pinch together. “That’s all you heard?”
“I just… I didn’t think…”
“I don’t want to keep doing this.” I wave my hands, backing away from her. “I miss my parents, and all you’ve done is make my life harder.”
“But I…”
“You put me to work the moment I got here. Who does that? I’m grieving the loss of my parents, but you make me tutor a total stranger. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m trying to survive.”
I stop dead, staring at her fretful eyes. “No, you’re trying to get revenge. Your sister closed the door on you, so you want to use her child for your own gain.”
Outrage has Miranda fired up. “No, I never—“
“Save it!” I lift my hand like a stop sign. “It’s so obvious to me now.”
“I loved Sarah!” Miranda shouts. “Yes, I didn’t want to get to know you. But, guess what? Looking at you hurts me too. You are your mother’s daughter. You’re good to your core, and it’s just as infuriating as it was the first time.”
The silence that follows is the kind that has weight to it.
Miranda crosses her arms over her chest and looks out the window. “You even handle Ryder better than me.”
“What?”
“Your influence. It’s good.”
“I’m not trying to handle him.”
“No, you’ve connected to him.” Miranda turns to face me, and there’s red lines around her eyes. “Just like your mother could connect with people. You’re annoyingly good at it.”
“Look, whatever you think is going on between me and Ryder…”
“You don’t manipulate him,” Miranda says quietly. “You don’t manage him. You just stayed, and somehow that was the thing he needed.”
I shrug it off, not wanting to think about Ryder right now. “I just showed up.”
“Exactly.” Miranda leans against the counter, for the first time abandoning her perfect posture.
“I found Ryder at a small town open mic night. He was just a kid, playing to a minuscule crowd of locals, and he was incredible. It had been years since I’d heard such distinctive vocals and guitar riffs.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw him leave the stage, trembling and pale.
I knew, if I could mold him, I could turn him into a true star. ”
I think about him on stage at The Factory and say, “And you did.”
“I found him with his mother, who was coaching him out of his nerves. They were both in such a state, they barely took in what I said. I needed to buy them a meal at a local diner to make them focus and accept my proposal.”
“It was their decision to say yes.”
“I was careful about every single move I made. I had to. My last business crumbled, but I wasn’t willing to leave my industry behind.
Alice, I strategize all my moves, but since seeing you and him interact, it’s made me remember…
” Miranda pushes off the counter and smooths back her hair.
“I remember how my sister used to listen to me and let me dream. Sarah’s maternal side came on early, and she was more of a mother to me than our actual mother. I had forgotten…”
I watch Miranda drift away with her memories.
“I had forgotten what the presence of family can do to a person.” She lets out a faint laugh, admitting, “This week, in meetings, I’m fighting for Ryder in a way I haven’t done before. Almost like something maternal is coming out in me.”
I clear my throat, throwing a thumb behind me. “You didn’t exactly seem thrilled when his parents turned up.”
Miranda sighs, averting her gaze. “It’s a work-in-progress, dear. And now he’s gone, squandering tonight’s tutoring session.”
“A session I never agreed to, remember?”
“Alice, are we really…”
“It’s moot anyway,” I cut her off. “He’s left with his parents. If we’re going to study, we should just leave it until tomorrow.”
“You can’t do it tomorrow. Your social worker is coming for her follow-up visit.”
“Ryder should be able to spend time with his family. He’s already sacrificed so much time with them.”
“That’s what it takes in this industry. Sacrifice.” Miranda crosses her arms. “I can’t have him fail. You know, it’s not just English. He needs help with physics, economics… Ugh, he really let his grades slide. I can’t listen to one more word from Kensington about graduation.”
“If you could spend one more evening with your parents, wouldn’t you sacrifice time off work to take it?” I ask, hoping her humanity shines through. “Or what about your sister?”
“Alice, I…” She groans and waves me off. “I already made my choices.”
“I’m not talking about the past. I’m talking about right now. What if there was a chance for you to see my mom again? Wouldn’t you take it?”
Her hands rest on her hips, and she lets out a tired sigh. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I want to know if you care.”
Miranda gestures to the kitchen door and starts moving. “Come with me. I need to show you something.”
The familiar, unsettled feeling sloshes in my stomach. “Umm, okay.”
“Follow me upstairs.”
Upstairs? I hope she only means one flight of stairs.
I follow onto the second-floor landing, and to my dismay, she leads me to the narrow stairwell that leads to the third floor.
“Umm, is this about…” I can’t finish the sentence. I’ve been terrified of the repercussions of stepping foot in her office without her permission.
Miranda paces the small hallway, but doesn’t go to her office.
Instead, she pushes open the door to her bedroom.
I stand by the threshold, feeling too awkward to step inside.
Miranda pulls a large, slim rectangle from a shelf.
Once it’s in her hands, I recognize that it’s a worn cover of a vinyl record.
She removes the record from its sleeve and walks over to the record player in the corner.
“Your mother and I would play this almost every night,” Miranda says, setting the record on the player. “I think the word ‘obsessed’ is too lightweight to describe our love for the lead singer.”
The music plays, and I’m transported to my old living room. I’m twelve-years-old, and the song is streaming through the Bluetooth speakers mounted on the walls.
“I know this song,” I utter.
Miranda brightens. “You do?”
I nod. “I remember Mom playing it.”
Miranda smiles. “She still played it?”
I shrug. “It was on a playlist. That’s all I remember.”
Miranda gazes at the spinning record in wonder. “Maybe she didn’t hate me that much after all.”
“Mom didn’t hate you.” I step into the room. “You should’ve seen the pain on her face anytime I had the courage to bring you up.”
“Why would you talk about me?”
“I dunno. You were my aunt, and you weren’t around anymore. It was weird, and I wanted to know why.”
Miranda pulls the needle off the record, and the music stops. “Well, your mother put it all down on paper, didn’t she?”
“Do you regret how it all went down?”
“I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t taken action.”
“But, like you said earlier, you’re alone.”
Miranda taps the record player, indecision on her face. “But I have you now.”
“You didn’t even want me here.”
Miranda picks up the record sleeve, smoothing her fingers over the worn edges. “Because I didn’t want to dredge up the past. I’ve spent so long pretending I didn’t have a family, and that it didn’t hurt. Then you come back into my life with your need for family. It’s been a lot.”
I cross my arms and huff. “It’s no picnic for me either.”
“Do I regret making choices that left our relationship so broken?” Miranda says, leaving the question dangling for a beat. “Yes, I wish this wasn’t so hard.”
I let my arms fall and exhale hard. “Me too.”
Miranda sets the sleeve down and quietly says, “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral.”
It hits me right in the chest, and I almost stumble backward. “Really?”
Miranda swallows hard, meeting my eyes. “Yes, I am sorry I wasn’t there.”
My eyes well up, but the tears don’t break. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Mostly for you,” she admits. “I had my sister at both my parents’ funerals. You didn’t have anyone by your side. That’s what I regret the most.”
A lump balls in my throat and it’s getting increasingly harder not to let the tears fall. “Thank you for taking me in.”
A gentle smile curves across her lips. “I’m actually glad I did now.”
I smirk at the absurdity of the statement. “I’m not just a burden anymore?”
Miranda walks over to me. Her hand lifts as if to touch my chin, but doesn’t quite make it. “Gifted people aren’t burdens. But you’re more than that. You’re my family, and I want you to be safe.”
“I have a chance to leave if you want me gone,” I say, regretting every syllable. “I can go to college. You won’t need to be my guardian anymore.”
Her head tilts, taking me in. “You look like you hated saying every word of that.”
A tear finally falls, knowing my aunt understands me. “I did. I don’t want to be on my own if I don’t have to. But I will if we can’t live together.”
Miranda steps back, taking a beat. “I’ve been unwelcoming,” she begins. “This much is true. But we can try. After the showcase, Sky Chaos will have a clearer direction for their future.”
“That won’t stop you working with them, and I don’t want to stop you. I didn’t stop my parents from working. I just don’t want you to promise things will be different after the showcase, because we both know it won’t be.”
Miranda smirks. “You’re clever, even without the books.” She snaps her fingers, moving past me and through the doorway. “Oh, that reminds me.”
I turn around and step into the hallway just as Miranda unlocks her office door. She moves inside, and after a few seconds, she’s back in the hallway.
“Here.” My SD card is in her palm. “Janet from the KEG marketing team returned it to me. She just asked that you not monetize any of the shots they’ve already used for the band.”
I look at the small black rectangle, and then at her. “I can’t use any of my own shots?”
“We’ve licensed them to Kensington Entertainment Group.”
“Licensed.” The word snags in my throat. “We?”
“Yes, of course,” Miranda says simply. “What is so difficult to understand?”
“It’s my work.” I snatch the SD card from her. “Not that I was planning to monetize anything, but shouldn’t I get the choice? Shouldn’t that be mine to make?”
Miranda gives me a perplexed look. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Look, I get that the usual photographer was sick, but I don’t appreciate being used like some tool you can just…”
“Alice.” Miranda lifts one hand, the bewilderment still plain to see. “You are getting paid for your work.”
I pause. “What?”
“Yes.” She watches my face with careful wariness, expecting another outburst. “You were working under my business name at The Factory. KEG has paid for the photos they used, and I’ll pay you as an employee of Miranda Knox Management.”
I lower back onto my heels, and the air goes out of me slowly. “I... am?”
M_Knox_Mgnt. The social handle that’s been mocking me for days. It’s my employer’s handle? It was actually giving me credit by association?
Miranda lifts her hands questioningly. “What did you think?”
I can’t look at her directly. “Clearly not that.”
“I’ll write you a check,” Miranda says with a muted snigger. “Janet’s email has the file numbers for the shots they used. I’ll get you a copy.”
“Oh, umm, okay.” I stare at the little rectangle in my hand. “Thanks.”
“You know, you’re exceptionally talented,” Miranda says in a somewhat airy tone. “I have three shots still open on my laptop. I was thinking of framing them. Would you be okay with that?”
There’s a flutter in my chest. “You want prints of my work?”
Miranda smiles. “If that’s okay.”
I grin, nodding. “Yeah, that would be okay.”
Miranda lifts a hand and swipes at the fallen tears on my cheeks. “You know, you could stay on as my freelance photographer. We already know you have a terrific effect on Ryder when he performs. Could be a win-win for all of us.”
At that, the moment of happiness diminishes. “No, I can’t. Ryder and I… Things have gone badly.”
“Maybe you fought about the essay, but you can always…”
“It wasn’t about the essay,” I blurt. “I blamed him for something. Something that was actually your fault.”
Miranda flinches. “My fault?”
“The way you spoke to Jasper Whitmore on Saturday night,” I start, feeling dread creep up my spine. “You humiliated him, and he wanted revenge. He snooped into my life, and when it came out at school, I blamed Ryder for it.”
“Well, we can just tell Ryder that—“
“He knows it was Jasper,” I cut her off. “It doesn’t matter. He didn’t care. Whatever we had, it’s over.”
Miranda looks unconvinced. “Do you know how many times Ryder and I have argued? If arguing with Mr. Hothead meant the end of things, I wouldn’t be his manager anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple. He needs you. He doesn’t need me.”
“Yes, he does.” Miranda sniggers, gesturing to her office. “We have photographic proof he needs you.”
“He was a talented musician before he met me.”
“Where does this leave the essay? Are you completely done with him?”
I blow out a hard breath. “I can help him with it tomorrow morning. But I don’t know if he is willing to work with me.”
“I can get him in the room with you.”
“Maybe I should just write the essay for him. It’d be easier.”
“I’ll make sure he studies before we leave for rehearsal tomorrow,” Miranda says purposefully. “Hopefully, you two can patch things up.”
I roll my eyes. “You just want me around so his nerves don’t ruin the showcase.”
She smiles. “And maybe you can be there to take some photos? I have another lanyard with your name on it.”
“Good lord. You never stop scheming, do you?”
Miranda shrugs. “At least I’m being upfront about it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Somehow, I find myself smiling. “At least we can tell Mrs. Rodriguez tomorrow that our communication is improving.”
“See? There are silver linings to everything.”