Outside it’s cold. So cold my vision comes back with a snap. I’m staring at the dumpsters behind the dining hall when Tucker pushes off from the wall, sending my heart racing all over again. As a stagehand, he’s in all black and truly terrifying coming out of the dark like that.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak.

“It’s hot backstage, and cramped.” He points to his chest. “And a guy like me doesn’t do great in small spaces.” His hair is damp with sweat, and his cheeks are flushed with the heat. He looks almost as miserable as I feel.

“So what do you do when we’re in the middle of a scene and you can’t sneak out?” I ask. Talking to him is better than thinking about what’s inside right now.

He tucks his hair behind his ears and crosses his arms like he’s thinking. After a minute he says, “I pretend I’m with my mom and dad, and it’s hot because it’s summer. Any minute we’ll find a cool spot by the creek to drop a line. The heat’s not so bad when you’re fishing.”

“And that works?”

“It works long enough to get me to the end of the scene.”

We stand there in the cold for a few more seconds, our breaths making tiny locomotive clouds, and then Tucker opens the door for us to go back in.

“Thanks, Tucker.”

“For what?” he asks as I slide past him.

“Just… thanks.”

When I get back inside, Well is right there pacing the hallway.

“Fine,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It’s not fine. It’s so not fine.

“Yes!” He pumps a fist and goes running for Mrs. Nicky.

Okay. It could be worse, I tell myself backstage, and yank up my satin sleeve. I don’t have to worry about the crowd. I’ll be up onstage where no one can reach out and touch me. This is one of those controllable situations that Andrea is always talking about. I just have to walk on, sing one song with Well, and then walk right off again. And if worse comes to worst, I can do what Tucker does and imagine myself alone on a lake about a million miles from any living thing.

I still feel shaky, like how you get with a fever. How many Cinderellas will throw up tonight? But suddenly the lights shift from blue to amber. Mrs. Nicky herself is cueing me forward, and there’s no more time to think about it. I count to three and walk onstage.

Well meets me in the center. We turn to face the audience and the spotlight sends the crowd into darkness. I say a quick prayer of thanks to Jacob for that.