Chapter 11: The Roof

I didn't scream at Tilly. I had been quiet for five years, and I was good at it.

"Go home," I said.

"Marlo, please. Let me explain it properly."

"You just did."

She stood with her coat in her hands and tears running down her face.

I had worked with enough singers to know a trained cry when I saw one.

"Are you going to tell Beau you heard it?" she asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because on Monday I'm going to sign your waiver," I said. "In front of everyone. Like I promised."

Her face went through three expressions and landed on relief.

"You mean it?"

"Go home, Tilly."

She went. I listened to her heels on the stairs until the green door shut behind her.

August cleared his throat. "That was not what I expected you to say."

"I know."

"You're not going to sign it."

"I'm not going to tell you what I'm going to do," I said. "Not yet. I need some air."

"There's a roof."

"Show me."

He took me up a narrow staircase behind the supply closet and held the heavy door while I stepped out.

The roof of Lantern Records is flat gravel and a low brick wall, with all of Nashville lit up beyond it.

The wind came off the river and cut straight through my coat.

I walked to the edge and put both hands on the cold brick.

I didn't cry. I felt scraped out, with nothing left to cry from.

The door opened behind me, and I heard August's shoes on the gravel.

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