But she’s not fine. That is pretty obvious about halfway through act 2, and it becomes crystal clear when she vomits backstage with her mike still on. I rush to the bathroom. Mrs. Nicky and a few stagehands are standing over her. She’s lying on her back on the tile floor, like a murder victim. And then she moans, and everyone takes a step back.

“Oh God, the sushi,” she says, and curls up in a ball.

Well runs in, holding his puffy baker’s hat in his hands.

“Maxwell, your services are not required. Get back outside.”

“My number’s over, Mrs. Nicky. I came to get the lowdown.”

“Out.” She points her finger and then turns to Mary Katherine, who is slowly crawling toward a bathroom stall. “You are not going onstage again.”

“But I have to! It’s my last song! I—” She throws a hand over her mouth and doesn’t finish. We all exit the bathroom at a sprint.

“Lou can do it, Mrs. Nicky,” Well says once the door swings shut on the sound of Mary Katherine’s heaving.

“Shut up, Well!”

“What? You can!” he says, and then turns to Mrs. Nicky, who is now looking at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m the right car for her. “She already knows the song.”

“Shut up, Well.” I look at the clock. Cinderella has to be back onstage in seven minutes. Our class isn’t big enough for understudies. Mrs. Nicky passed out Emergen-C tablets and threatened everyone with Saturday school if they got so much as a sniffle. I can feel my heart racing. I’m getting dizzy. This is so much bigger than a three-second hug. This is a sensory nightmare.

Mrs. Nicky takes a deep breath through her nose and says in the softest voice I have ever heard her use, “Lou, this is entirely your call. I would love to see you under the lights tonight, but the show will go on. We will live to act another day with, or without, a last song from Cinderella.”

Well turns to me. He’s just a vague shape in front of my eyes. My vision’s gone blurry with fear. “It’s the duet with the Baker, Lou. With your mike on and earpiece in, you won’t be able to hear anything but you and me.” Well holds up his hand. “I promise.”

I swallow. This means so much to him. I look at Mrs. Nicky, who’s doing her best to seem like she doesn’t care one way or the other. I walk several steps backward and Well starts to follow. Mrs. Nicky grabs him by the shoulder. Good. Even Well is too much company right now. Especially Well.

I turn and run for the emergency exit.