“Swing by our booth and we’ll give you a shirt. Oh, and honey?” She gently touches Sage on the shoulder. “Stay as long as you want, but I’m going to take this boy and retire to our room. This music’s too loud for both of us, I think.” Cal stretches up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on Sage’s mouth.

I don’t mean to stare but their kiss is so simple and easy, like saying see you later, that I don’t think any thought was put into it.

I wish I knew what that was like.

We spend a few more minutes talking with Sage about her first year in college and her big plan for a clothing line—geeky with a dash of the eccentric. I’ve heard Dare talk about her a few times, but I never paid attention. Maybe I should have.

I never paid attention to a lot of things. It wasn’t part of Jessica Stone’s image.

I try to picture Harper in one of my settings, gilded parties and stuffy cocktails, but the image is blurry, like a camera lens that doesn’t want to focus. Meanwhile, I feel like a weed in a flowerbed, somewhere I don’t belong, afraid I’ll be found out and plucked away. Harper…she looks happy.

Happy.

I look away, remembering Ethan’s question.

Sage and Harper are gossiping about some YouTuber they both know, someone who is bad news, but I can’t get a read on why before Bran calls Harper’s name over the karaoke speaker. The entire room quiets, and she turns expectantly toward the stage.

Bran jabs his finger at her. “I challenge you!”

Harper puts her hands on her hips. “To what?”

He extends the mic and wiggles his eyebrows. “To a duet-off.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t handle my talent, Bran.”

“Chicken!”

“You know that’s a lie. I’ve already beaten you three times.”

Bran gives an aggravated sigh. “Then duet-off with your friend!”

This time Harper barks a laugh. “No way, she wouldn’t—”

“I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows shoot up.

I’m not this bold, am I? No—yes. Maybe. Once upon a time. Before I had to fold myself into Jessica Stone. And now that I’m not, my bent edges are beginning to unfurl as slow and steady as a butterfly’s wings.

The view seen through the lens of Elle’s camera haunts me.

Are you happy? Ethan’s question reverberates in my head.

I want to find the answer.

I take Harper by the hand and pull her across the room to the karaoke corner, between a throng of cosplayers dressed as gender-bent Disney princes and princesses (Elsa is among them). Bran hands us two microphones.

“Are you sure about this?” Harper asks, hesitant. Her eyes dart around the room.