I give a surprised laugh. “Well, that’s amazing. I’m happy for you! I’m sorry I’m in such a sad state to celebrate you, though.…”

“Oh Rach. You don’t get it.” She takes my hands. “That’s my point. I know what rock bottom is. Been there, seen that, hated it with a vengeance. I was angry at the industry; I felt betrayed. I felt unsure of what came next, or what any of it meant about me. I worried I’d never be able to trust anyone again, because it felt like no one really loved me for me. But I’m living proof that after rock bottom, life gets better again. Not just better, though. Like, way better.”

I smile wider, so proud of my friend for the way she was able to bounce back. I just wish I felt more certain that I could do the same. “I don’t know, Akari. Maybe that’s just because you’re a super-badass bitch. I’m not sure it works out like that for everyone.”

“Well, yes, I do possess exceptional levels of badassery,” she says with mock bravado, prompting another grin from me. “But I guarantee that life will get better, even for a mere mortal like you. Because here’s the deal: When you face the worst thing—when you face what you fear most—then you’re suddenly free of it. You realize if you survive that, nothing can break you. Does that make sense? I’m at a place now where I love New Me, and I feel a kind of freedom I didn’t used to have when we were younger. I was always in your shadow when we were trainees, and I would never let that happen now, LOL.”

We both laugh, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a tiny crack of sunlight pouring into the darkness inside me. I feel like there’s hope. Akari does look different to me, changed, but it’s not physical, I realize. It’s the maturity. The confidence. The ease.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for telling me.”

Just then, my phone rings, making us both startle. I haven’t been taking a lot of calls these days, but I glance at the caller ID and raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“It’s Carly Mattsson,” I say.

“Oh my god! What does she want?” Akari asks.

“I have no idea,” I answer truthfully. Then my stomach drops. This must be the call I’ve been dreading. The one telling me that my solo event with Discipline is off. There’s no way they’ll still want to work with me after everything that’s happened.