“Been a long time since I helped a girl get gussied up for the stage,” she says, not even bothering to wipe away the tear that smudges her mascara.

“I look like a Pepto-Bismol commercial,” I say.

“You look like your mother,” Glenn says.

I smooth out the pink satin ruffles of my dress. They bounce back defiantly.

“Yeah, right.”

He steps off the mat, closing the space between us with two long strides.

“You do,” he says. “The way she used to light up before your plays. Her eyes came alive watching you on the stage. Tonight, you have that same look—you look just like her.”

Cora hugs Glenn and he puts his arm around me and we lean on each other, a trio of broken hearts huddled tight together—cowboy boots on the carpet and all.

In the packed auditorium, Cora and Glenn manage to snag a few seats halfway up on the left side unclaimed by jackets and purses. Cora reminds me to look for her and smile when I get onstage. She pats her bag, as if I could forget that she is armed with a plethora of memory-making devices.

I scan the rows for Piper.

“Save a seat for her,” I tell Cora, who obediently slings her camera bag onto an empty chair.

“Are you sure she’s coming?”

I nod despite the sinking feeling in my stomach. Today was rough, but she has to come. I need her.

“Ava!”

Sage squeals and waves from the stage, grinning from ear to ear, dressed in Kenzie’s Dorothy costume down to her ruby-red slippers.

“So you really did it?” I say as she runs down the aisle toward me. “You poisoned Kenzie in the greatest understudy long game of all time.”

Sage laughs loudly and hugs me.

“Better!” she says, looking over her shoulder to where Kenzie, costume-free in jeans and a T-shirt, walks down the aisle. “After what happened with Piper today, Kenzie told Tony she was the one who sent that picture of you. They met with Mr. D and decided Kenzie shouldn’t be in the play this year.”

“You’re kidding.”

Kenzie shakes her head when she gets to us. “Nope.”

“But you’re the lead.”

Kenzie shrugs. “We both know I don’t deserve it. I was just so mad. You’d taken my place with Piper and then came into drama and—” She stops, breathing heavily. “It doesn’t matter. I should never have sent that picture. I should have been there for you like I should have been there for Piper. The way you were today. You were so inspir—”

I hold my hands out.

“I gotta stop you right there. Being burned doesn’t make me an inspiration.”

“I meant the way you stood by Piper. I knew I had to make things right, too,” she says.