She laughs and kisses the top of my head. “You know we’re going to have to talk about what happened this weekend.”

“Ah.” I sigh. “Which part? The part where I impersonated Jessica Stone, or the part where I assaulted her costar?”

“You assaulted her costar? Which one?”

Kathy finishes with the customer and walks over to us. “We’ll definitely talk about that later, but first we need to discuss this.” She takes out her phone, which is open to Twitter, and shows me what I already know.

Early this morning, after I’d slipped out from beside Ethan and crept out of Jess’s room, because I’m terrible at goodbyes, I deleted my Twitter as I rode the elevator down to my floor. The #SaveAmara initiative—everything. I’m sure it’ll live on in other people’s hashtags and other people’s accounts, but I’m no longer the one spearheading it. I also deleted the online petition and its fifty-thousand-odd signatures (not before saving a copy, though).

I give my mothers a shrug, unable to look at either of them. “I think I’ve done everything I could, and the petition reached who it needed to. I don’t want to be one of the people riling up the masses and spreading toxicity, and Twitter isn’t the best place for nuanced conversations. I want to save Amara, but I don’t want to do it at the expense of Jess, you know?” My last word wobbles, and I know it’s because I’m on about four hours of sleep, so I bite my bottom lip to keep myself together.

“Oh, Monster.” Kathy folds me into a hug. Minerva wraps her long arms around us both, and we exist there while I try not to cry, sandwiched between the two people who love me most.

It’s not so bad being Imogen Lovelace. I’m not a movie star, and I don’t attract swaths of adoring fans, and my voice is tiny—but my dreams are big and I don’t mind being me.

The fantastical is almost over, but it isn’t over yet.

I have a boy to meet at the top of the escalators for one last time, and I have a bone to pick with him.

We break from our hug, and I dry my eyes and tell my moms I’ll be back to help pack up after the floor closes. Milo’s still in the storage closet talking to the coach.

I hope that’s a good sign.