Willa laughs. She dismisses the idea with a wave of her hand. “Avril, I gave you the lead role because you blew all those other girls out of the water. There was never any question about who would play Eden.” She narrows her eyes at me, and I guess she knows what I’ve been thinking, because she adds, “And if any of the other girls are giving you a hard time, it’s just because they’re jealous.” She shrugs. “It comes with the territory when you’re the leading lady.”

“Everyone was really good at auditions,” I say. “There are lots of girls you could’ve picked to play Eden.”

“There are lots of girls who could’ve played Eden. That’s true. But there was only one who proved she could truly become Eden. And that’s the difference between good acting and great acting. Between pretending and art.” Willa grins at me. Her eyes sparkle. “Ignore the haters. You can be the moon and still be jealous of the stars.” She gives me a sly little smile. “Besides, you and Cole certainly have great chemistry together.”

I blush. Take a nibble of grilled cheese. Try to figure out what to say to that.

Willa is studying me now. She hasn’t taken a bite of her lunch. “You know,” she says, “Cole could use a friend. He gets lonely sometimes.” She pauses. Picks up her fork and holds it over her salad. “You could be good for him, I think.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, because I genuinely don’t understand how I could be good for anybody, but especially Cole Culver. If anything, being around me seems to bring out some kind of darkness in him. The circles around his eyes are blacker these past few days. His cheeks a little more hollow.

Willa smiles. “Cole needs someone to keep him grounded. Someone to get him out of his own head.” She finally spears a forkful of salad, and she gives me a little wink. “Someone extraordinary.”

I’ve never thought of myself as anything special before, but when Willa tells me I am, I almost believe her.

We spend the rest of lunch just talking. It’s so much fun chatting with Willa about her life and about my mother that I almost forget about what happened last night. And about what Cole showed me this morning. My mother’s name painted on the back wall of the scene shop. Red capital letters dripping like blood. I file those things away in some kind of separate drawer, just like Glory showed me with the invoices yesterday. I tuck them away in a folder. Label them TO DEAL WITH LATER. Then I slam the metal drawer in my head closed and try to forget it exists.