جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 20

DARIOBy the time we cleared baggage claim at JFK, I already regretted dragging half the production team to New York.Work trips had a way of turning professionals into tourists the second they smelled jet fuel and overpriced coffee.The moment we stepped outside, Rico stretched like a man released from prison. “God, I’ve missed this city.”“You were here three weeks ago,” I reminded him.“Exactly,” he said without shame. “Far too long.”The shuttle arrived, swallowed our gear, and we piled in. I took the front seat out of habit—quietest spot on any bus. Or so I thought.Laughter rolled forward before we even left the curb.I didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to.Indigo.She’d claimed a window seat in the middle, her phone pressed to the glass like the city was putting on a private show just for her. Every few seconds she pointed at something new, firing questions before the last answer finished.“Is that the Queensboro Bridge?”“Nah,” Rico laughed. “Wrong bridge.”“O

INDIGOBy the time I reached the hotel, my eyes burned from the effort of holding back tears. The second the door clicked shut behind me, the last of my composure crumbled. I dropped my bag on the armchair, kicked off my boots, and sank onto the edge of the bed, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.What was I thinking? I replayed the moment on the monitors again and again, wishing I could rewrite it. The player had looked seriously hurt. I’d spoken without thinking. One careless sentence had forced a live correction that millions of people had probably watched. Dario had to issue the correction, and I’d been sent packing before the second period even ended.I stood up and dragged my suitcase onto the bed. Packing now would at least give my hands something to do. Blazer. Jeans. The sweater Leah had insisted I bring because “New York doesn’t care if you’re from Los Angeles.” A watery laugh slipped out, followed by another tear.I stared at the half-packed suitcase for a long

INDIGOMy alarm pulled me from sleep at 6:00 p.m. I lay there for a moment, blinking at the ceiling, letting the pieces of the day settle around me. Los Angeles. Home. My suitcase still stood beside the wardrobe where I had abandoned it after getting home this morning.The whirlwind of New York—the game, the lights, the noise—felt like something from another life.Today wasn’t about me or yesterday’s disappointments. Today belonged to Cathy.With a groan, I forced myself upright. My body protested immediately. My neck was stiff from sleeping at the wrong angle, my legs still ached from yesterday’s endless walking around Manhattan, and judging by the heaviness behind my eyes, I’d slept barely six hours.Jet lag was rude.I shuffled toward the bathroom, splashed cold water over my face, and stared at my reflection.“You look terrible.”The woman staring back didn’t argue.After a long shower and far too much concealer, I looked… less like someone who’d been emotionally steamrolled on na

DARIOI hadn’t been in the best mood since last night.Leah had left dinner with my family without much explanation beyond “my cousin needs me.” I understood the impulse to help someone. What I could not understand was Caleb. He had no idea what kind of help was needed, yet the moment he heard it involved Indigo, he volunteered to drive Leah across town himself.Even after I offered to take her.He had simply decided he was part of the rescue mission too.Caleb treated every situation like an opportunity to insert himself, especially when Indigo was involved.And now, as if to complete the morning, he’d insisted Indigo sit in on a meeting meant for the executive production team.“She has good insight,” was his only response when I questioned the attendee list.Perhaps she did.That still failed to explain why a junior writer needed to be present for strategy discussions about FanHub’s biggest exclusive of the month.I set my tablet down and looked around the room.Rico was already a

INDIGOThe final note lingered long after Leah’s fingers left the piano keys. For a heartbeat the entire ballroom stayed perfectly still, as though no one quite remembered how to move or speak. Then one person stood. Another followed. Within seconds the whole hall was on its feet, and the applause rolled through the space like thunder, echoing against the high ceilings until it filled every corner.I clapped until my palms stung. Beside me Caleb applauded just as hard, and even Dario rose to his feet. On stage Leah stood from the piano, visibly overwhelmed, bowing once and then again when the ovation refused to fade. A small smile tugged at my lips. I had watched her play countless times while we were growing up, and she had always been talented, but tonight felt different. Every note had carried something alive—hope in one passage, loneliness in another, and stretches where it seemed she was pouring pieces of herself straight onto the keys. At one point I realized goosebumps had ris