My favorite spot in Dad’s office was an Empire-style chair beside two built-in cabinets. I lowered myself into it now, careful not to jostle the sixteenth-century lute perched precariously on the second shelf. Sitting in my usual place, I felt like another piece of antique furniture. Not in a bad way. In an “I belong here” way.

“So, are you an item?” Nancy asked, her shrewd eyes dancing merrily between us. “I wasn’t sure if this was creative drama on Nora’s part, but you two certainly look cozy.”

Oscar smiled sheepishly at me. “Ah . . .”

I beamed back in confirmation.

But Nancy wasn’t looking. “We can chitchat later. Let’s get you changed first. Shawna’s people are going to be ready in about ten.”

“Changed?” Oscar glanced at himself. “Like . . . clothes, or—?”

“Yes.” Nancy pressed her fingertips to her lips, looking at Oscar’s outfit. “See, I love this, but I think if you wear something more . . . teenaged?” She glanced at Nora. Nora nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got something that I think will have more impact. This is your big spotlight moment!”

She grabbed Oscar’s hands and shook them. He laughed.

“Until your symphony premieres, that is. You’ll wear a tux for that, yes?”

She turned to Dad. He shrugged, smiling like an impassive god, his feet kicked up on the corner of his desk.

“But for this . . .” She crouched to dig into a Louis Vuitton duffel bag on the floor, her voice trailing off.

As I leaned forward, curious, Nora reached for me. “We probably should give them some breathing room, actually. Do you mind?”

Her arm was linked in mine and pulling me out of the room before I could even process what was happening. I glanced back at Oscar, but his eyes were locked on the bag like it was Pandora’s Box.

Nora sighed musically once the door shut behind us.

“There. Thanks. I get a little funny in tight spaces.” She paced the hall, smiling brightly and rubbing her hands like we were waiting to go into a party. “I think I’m more nervous about this interview than he is!”

“Why?”

Her eyelashes fluttered for a second before she answered. “This is just such a big moment for him. And I care. You know how I am, I just . . . internalize things.”

I glanced back at the closed door, then whispered, “Why is she asking Oscar to change? He tried on like ten different outfits this morning, trying to get the right mix. He’s . . . good.”

“That is adorable. Oh my God.” Nora pressed her hand to her lips. “He’s got a great sense of style, doesn’t he? This is just . . . interviews are a special beast. That’s why we’re lucky to have Nancy. Oh! Speaking of which—would you be up for an interview?”

“I . . . what? What would I have to say? About anything?”

“We could give you talking points.”