“It’s always about Reid. Even now, when Reid getting the audition back might jeopardize everything for our family. I threw myself into making Melted serious for you, for your job, because I was terrified I ruined so much more than a concert when I messed up the Harvest Festival. I knew the stakes. And I know this is my fault in the end, but even with all that on the line, Reid is the priority! So I get it. I will never be enough for you.”

Dad looks at me, so completely taken aback.

Takes a whole note rest.

Then responds. “Natalie, what are you talking about?”

Tears stream down my face. “I overheard you and Mom. Talking about layoffs. And how perfect Melted needed to be for you to keep your job.”

Dad’s expression softens. “Oh. That’s not… Whatever you overheard, you weren’t supposed to. I was… under a lot of pressure. But we’re okay. My job is okay. At least for now. Even if it wasn’t, that’s not a problem for you to fix. But there is a problem to fix. You threw away Reid’s chance.”

Silence settles between us and the small hope I had burns out. No one wants to fix this for Reid more than me. But Dad brought it back there after everything I said. He will never understand me. When it’s clear that I’m not going to respond, Dad resorts to the move he knows best.

Exit scene.

I let the crash of years of feelings unleashed settle for a moment, but it’s not as bad as I anticipate. In some ways I feel lighter. Even so, I set aside the rest of my Dad Feelings to process at a later time. Despite what he doesn’t get, Dad is right about Reid’s problem. I wish Jenny had called. Because this isn’t a compromise of the integrity of the program—not at all. It’s punishing Reid for my mistake. She’d understand. I know she would.

If only I could talk to her.

I am up and FaceTiming Henry and Fitz in two seconds.

“Hey!” Fitz answers.

Henry yawns. “What’s—?”

“How do you feel about Albany?” I ask.

“Um. Cold?” Fitz says.

“Is there any reason either of you need to be at school today?”

Fitz clicks her tongue. “Besides Melted and, like, the law… no?”

“Would you maybe. I don’t know. Go to Albany. With me. Today?”

Before I admit once and for all that I can’t fix this, I need to speak to Jenny Nelson. I need to make my case to her, in person. It’s easy to say no to an email. It’s easy to say no when you don’t understand the talent you’re losing. She needs to hear his Melted composition. If she says no, she needs to say it to my face.

“Skip school?” Henry asks.