I crumpled, hugging my knees to my chest, turning off my phone, and tossing it onto my bed. I sat there, mind whirling with the aftermath. What the hell did I think I was doing? I knew how I felt. I could admit it to myself, even if I couldn’t to anyone else. And what about my career? I should be creating music, devoting myself to art—what did it matter if I made it big or not?
There was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
“Hey, Hester?” It was Cass, tentative but obviously excited. “You good? I thought I heard you talking to somebody.”
“Just the phone,” I said, gulping down the lump in my throat. “Thanks for checking.”
“Are you, ah, up to look at something right now?”
“Sure. Come on in.”
Cass peeked around the door, a laptop balanced open on her forearm and her face radiant with enthusiasm. “So now that we know you’re like alive and everything, I finally went back and checked my business email to catch up on stuff from last night and…”