Nicole didn’t return the smile. “But what’s it all been for? What was the point of it? The irony is that at the beginning I did it for her, you know? To prove to her that I was good at something. The first big role I landed, I thought, this is it. She’ll be proud of me now. But she wasn’t. So I thought, maybe that isn’t enough. I need bigger roles. I need to win awards and be noticed and then maybe she’ll notice me too. So I did that, and it still wasn’t enough. And then I gave up on approval and just wanted to show her.”

Milly was upset for her friend all over again. All Nicole had wanted was for her mother to act the way any other mother would. She’d wanted to feel valued. She’d wanted to make her mother proud. And no child should have to work at that.

“And you did show her.”

“Yes, and suddenly my career is soaring, people are looking at me with envy, and I’m asking myself what the heck I’m doing. Why I’m doing it, because my mother doesn’t seem to care what I do or what I achieve. I’ve shown her, and she just doesn’t care. Lately I’ve been questioning my life. My choices.”

Milly assembled everything and slid it into the oven. Her own emotions had settled as she’d listened to Nicole. Whatever her difficulties with Richard, she was loved and supported by her family, and she always had been. She didn’t win awards, and few people outside the village knew her name, but she felt valued. And she knew how much that was worth.

“You’re successful, Nicole. Beyond successful.”

“But what is success? Because if you’re not enjoying the life you’re living, if you’re hating almost every moment, then that doesn’t feel like success to me. I’ve come to the conclusion that fame can be dangerous because it distorts reality. And it’s so easy to get sucked into it.” Nicole paused. “Do you know how it feels to be adored? To have crowds calling your name and people wanting to take a photo with you? Everyone thinking you’re great. It’s intoxicating. You feel validated, important, secure—and I’d never had that before. Maybe if I’d had those things earlier in life, I wouldn’t have been so naive.” She shrugged. “I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just stating a fact. I once got ninety-eight percent in an English exam and I rushed home to tell her thinking that finally I would have made her proud, and do you know what she said? ‘What went wrong, Nicolette? What happened to that two percent?’”

She remembered that conversation: she’d been there when Nicole’s mother had said those words.