As Vere passes by me, the baby’s little arms go wide, like she’s missed me as much as I’ve missed her. I take her into my arms and give her some cuddle-kisses as I follow Vere into the living room. “I’m so glad you brought her.” I grin back at the baby’s little grin before holding her high to do raspberries on her soft tummy. Her giggles help to soothe my tangled emotions. Hiding my face in the baby’s soft jammies, I draw in her fresh powder scent while trying to ignore the fact that everyone is staring at me all over again. “I missed every inch of her little…self.”

Adam digs in the diaper bag and pulls out a binky. “We had to bring her. One of the things—secrets we’ve been keeping—is that we’re pretty sure her mom’s going to show up today. And we’re hoping— Can she come here as well? We want to reunite with her faster. Is that okay?”

“I’d heard from Mrs. Felix that she might be coming back. But here? The mom’s coming here?” I’m blinking too many times. Suddenly my feet won’t move. “Tonight? Here?”

“We hope.” Royce nods, glancing around the cottage. He seems to be openly admiring the place. “It all depends on if the paparazzi caught wind of her and what we’re up to right now. We’ve tried so hard to create even more distractions, but no one has noticed those. There’s a very focused laser beam on all of us thanks to the newspaper article. It’s possible someone has already connected the dots. The real dots, not the fake dots. If so, we’ll be executing our most extreme plan yet.”

Adam crosses the room and flops onto the couch. “The extreme plan includes you, Robin Love.”

“Again, not necessary.” I shrug, acting all cool. “I’ve got my own plans, and mine do not include any of you after tonight. Thanks for thinking of me, but just—no.”

Hunter sits next to Adam, looking as exhausted as the rest of them. “We’ve been really careful, helping everyone hide and do their thing, and I’m sure you’ve noticed that Royce, Adam, and I have maxed ourselves out on press distraction tactics each and every day since we met you. Stuff like when Adam faked drunk and crazy in the limo that day?”

“That was fake?” I ask.

“Well…the crazy part was fake. It’s possible the drunk part was real or I wouldn’t have invited that girl up here or gone off to ride the coasters.” Adam grins.

I smile. “You’re pretty funny when you’re drunk.”

Adam leans his head back and closes his eyes for a moment. “This has been more stressful than I thought it would be. What words did you use about kissing Royce? A moment that got way out of control.” He points to the baby. “If Eve does make it here at all, she and the baby won’t stay for long. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Eve?” I ask.

Royce calls out from the other side of the room, “That’s the baby’s mom’s name. Evelyn Williams.” His wide shoulders flex as he leans over the sink to stare out at the tree framing my kitchen window, and I wonder if he’s avoiding looking at me.

“Poor girl. She’s beyond desperate to see her daughter again. It was the first time she’d ever left her baby. I’m sure you can imagine she’s flipping out,” Vere adds.

“Oh…yeah. I can…imagine.” I hug the baby a little too tight as I turn away from them all, swallowing my questions. It’s not my right to know any more details, because I’m not sharing any of mine with them.

My chest grows heavy as it solidifies with the realities this day has brought to us all. This will be the last day I’ll get to hang out with all of them and be with this baby and friends I’ve grown to love. “It’s for the best,” I mutter, almost to myself, then add louder, “I’ve said it all along that she’d be back. So this is great, And now…” I force a smile. “We’ll all get on with our lives.”

I find myself wondering what Royce will do when—if—the baby’s mother arrives here. Will I have to watch them hugging, or worse, kissing? Right in my own cottage. My head floods with self-pitying thoughts: Do I even care? No. No. No. I don’t. It’s not my place to care, and heck…it’s not even my cottage. It never was. Aside from that kiss and the day that I blackened his eye, the rest of my interactions with Royce have been… What did Royce and I both call the kiss that happened between us?

Oh yeah. Nothing. A mistake.

Vere walks over and strokes the baby’s back before taking her out of my arms. “I’ll do the diaper. She was making some stinky, suspicious sounds in the limo, but I’m hoping it was only gas.”

Vere seems to be avoiding my gaze as she settles the baby onto a blanket on the couch next to Hunter. When I risk a glance at everyone else, it’s like none of them are looking in my direction on purpose. They’re all acting as though watching Vere opening a package of baby wipes is the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen. When Vere realizes everyone is staring only at her and the room has grown way too quiet, she flushes and says, “Uh…Royce? Adam? Hello? It will be great to have the story sorted out. Won’t it? This has been exhausting for all of us. Who’s going to start telling Robin all of the…”

“The lies?” Adam asks.

“Lies?” I ask.

“Yes.” Adam moves a throw pillow to the side and lounges farther into my couch. “We must fill you in on all of our whoppers so we can collectively begin to make up more. Isn’t that right, everyone? Who’s going to go first?”

Hunter, always trying to make Vere happy, starts, “I guess since Vere and I are not really involved very much, we could start—”

“Wait.” I hold up my hands. “Do I have to know these lies? What if I’m not curious? How about don’t tell me anything new? Protect yourselves. I don’t mind. The less I know, the better, so in case anyone asks me, I won’t have to force any answers.”

I pace to the far end of the room and back. “You have no idea how tired I am of the lying. I didn’t know this nondisclosure thing would be so difficult. And next week, when I go home, I’m going to be questioned a lot about my time here, and so—I’d rather not have extra things I’m legally obligated to stay quiet about—with—with—people at home.”

I rub one of my temples, wondering which of those people will get here first. The paparazzi or the police? Most probably the police. And I’ll bet whichever judge they assign to me is not going to appreciate how I can’t tell him anything about my job here. I’m going to have to remember to take all of the papers with me when I go.

Now everyone’s gone from avoiding my gaze to looking at me with big, questioning eyes.

“Did you say you’re tired of lying?” Adam looks utterly distraught and his eyes capture Royce’s. “Did you year that? She wants to know nothing, and she’s—tired. What if she won’t—”

“Adam. Don’t give me that look. We’re all tired of it, but we’re kind of stuck now, aren’t we? We have to keep her safe. We owe it to her,” Royce says.

“You don’t owe me anything besides my paycheck,” I say. “I can take care of myself, so you can leave me out of whatever steps you think are next, because I need to concentrate on my own next steps.” I shrug, and with huge effort I swallow down the pile of questions that have bubbled up at the back of my throat about the baby’s mom. Because I do want to know. Everything. About this woman called Eve. About how and why she left the baby, about how they all seem so exhausted, and most of all, what is the baby’s real name? Instead, I shrug again like I don’t care. “You found the mom, and so now you’re here to regroup and tell me my job is over, right?”

Royce nods.

“Good, because I meant to quit today anyhow. I’m happy that the baby will be reunited with the person she must miss very much. I know what it feels like to grow up without a mother so yeah, it’s best that she’s going to be involved. It’s time for you to get on with your lives, and I just found out that I’ve got to return home and deal with what I left behind, so there’s not much to talk about besides saying goodbye to you all, right?”

Vere, finished with the diaper, hands the baby off to Adam and stands. When the awkward silence between all of us stretches way too long, while Adam, Royce and Hunter are in the middle of doing some sort of silent shrug and glare conversation, Vere gives me this helpless look and whispers, “Can we talk about the amazing wall art in this place, then?”

She wanders from corner to corner, letting her hands trail over Cara’s work. “I love it. Words painted all huge like this are so cool. This room.” She breathes in, spinning and admiring. “It’s like it’s breathing. I don’t know which wall I like best.” She spins more, until she pauses, eyes rolling some because she’s made herself dizzy. “Whoa.” She draws an affectionate smile from Hunter, then from all of us as Hunter hops up to make sure she doesn’t tip over.

Watching them, I suddenly feel so alone. I think it has to be the best feeling in the world to have someone who knows you so well—who loves you so perfectly—that they’re already standing there and putting their arms around you before you know you’re falling.

“Who did all of this beautiful art? Robin, is it yours?” Hunter asks, joining Vere in her tactile tour of the cottage’s walls.

“Oh—um.” I swallow, wrapping my arms around my waist while swearing to myself that I can catch myself from falling just fine, and answer, “Cara—that’s Angel’s sister—she painted it all.”

“She’s fantastic.” Royce turns and runs his own hand against the wall painted with the word love.

“She…was fantastic,” I correct, wondering why my tummy won’t stop hurting. “She passed away ten years ago. These walls were the last work she ever did.”

“Oh.” Vere’s smile folds into frown. “Sad.”

I nod. “Yes. Yes it was. Very.”

The awkward silence stretches between us all again, and finally Royce, face grim, walks over to block my nervous pacing. “Look. Robin. There’s some things we have to tell you. Whether you want to hear the lies or not, I’m going to make the executive decision here and force you hear them all.” He glances at Vere, and she nods like he needs some sort of encouragement. “Shit. I don’t know where to start.”

I take in the planes of his beautiful face and study the different tilt to his eyes, because they’re flooded with an emotion I don’t recognize, and despite his naturally confident stance, I could swear the guy is shaking. That mask of cynical disdain he usually staples on after he slips like this, is still not on his face. I wonder if finally, today, I can reach him and force him to listen.

“Fine. Okay.” I close the gap between him and I, locking my eyes to his. “But I have some things I need to get off my chest, so I talk first. Deal?”

“Okay. Yes. Go ahead, because I need to gather my thoughts.”

“Chicken.” Adam laughs under his breath, earning a murderous glare from Royce.

Adam’s taken a baby bottle out of the diaper bag and, without looking up at any of us, starts feeding the baby while he’s got her nestled perfectly into the crook of his large bicep. He’s doing those small, comforting circles under her back, and we all smile as the baby’s eyelids start drooping heavily.

“We’re waiting. Say what you need to say.” Vere smiles, and Hunter pulls her in front of him into a hug as he leans against a wall. “Is anyone else getting surges of nervous laughter?” Vere squeaks out.

“I might be,” Adam says, and he and Hunter share a chuckle. “Maybe it’s all of our outfits. Like are we all really—”

“Shut up!” Royce steps forward a little. “None of this is funny. We’ve potentially messed up Robin’s life, and her head must be wrecked from hanging around us all week. Now, the newspaper article has made everything much worse—and sue me if I don’t know what to say to her but I’m sure not about to laugh. You all know the outfits are necessary costumes needed for the rest of this night to succeed, and goddamn you all for any laughter.” He points at me. “Robin, I think—”

“Hey.” I hold up my hands. “I said, me first—and unlike you, I know exactly what to say.”

Acting like I’m not about to puke, I head into the small kitchen and busy myself with grabbing a bag of chips and pouring them into a bowl so I can munch a few then pass them around. Maybe they get nervous giggles, but I get nervous snacking urges. “First,” I start, shoving a chip in my mouth to hide the waver in my voice. “If you catch a whisper that the press is heading this way, none of you can stay here.” I glance outside, noting the darkening sky. “I won’t let the Perino family or my little brother be part of any media circus.”

Royce and Adam seem to wince slightly at that comment, and suddenly they’re both reaching for handfuls of chips.

“Did either of you hear me? I need a promise. I can’t have the Perinos in any sort of spotlight.”

“Okay. We can promise people will leave immediately once the press—if the press—is spotted here, but we can’t promise that you and your little brother will be exempt from the media.” Royce gives Hunter a pointed look and paces back to the kitchen window to grab a glass of water and pull down the blind. “What’s next?”

“Second,” I continue, “after this conversation, we are all finished. I walk away, you walk away, and we’re done.”

“Uh…” Royce shifts his feet, looking more and more tormented. “That we can’t promise, either. Like I said, we mean to protect you and your little brother from the fallout that article is going to cause. We will have to see each other until things are set right—maybe a lot.”

Adam, who’s still gingerly holding the sleeping baby and expertly putting away the baby bottle with one hand, adds, “Maybe she means she’s done being a nanny? We could promise that. Your working days are over.” He looks hopefully over at me.

“Friends are forever, though, Robin.” Vere’s big brown eyes go wide. “I’m sure you don’t mean we’re done in that sense, do you?”

“What you all don’t understand is that I’ve also lied. It’s why I need to go home, and my lies are the reason that you must cut all ties with me. You can’t imagine how bad the next newspaper article will be if you don’t get rid of me in every way.” Shaking more now, I tear my gaze from Royce’s probing silver-fire eyes. I also avoid looking at Vere again, because I don’t want her to be unhappy.

Adam says, “Your lies have to be kindergarten level compared to the fiasco we’re stuck living in right now.” He’s smiling, trying to joke and smooth things over like he always does when there’s stress in the air. But then he adds, “Guarderobe will get worldwide press on this prostitute story, and we might be out of contract compliance with our record label so we might get fired, but I think we win the this live-in, pleasure-prostitutes story. What could you have possibly done that could make this story worse? Did you get a C-minus back in your small-town high school and forget to turn in your biology textbook and they’ve finally caught up to you?” He laughs at his own joke. “It’s got to be baby-level stuff.”

“Yeah. How bad could it be? I bet you’ve only ever been grounded by your dad for having a messy room,” Royce adds, sitting on the old chaise lounge by the window.

I gasp like I’ve been punched in the gut. How dare this guy bring up my dad? My dad would lose his mind to think of what Sage and I have been through since he went missing. Worse, if he knew what went down in that closet he’d nail Royce to a wall but good. Then my awesome father would ground me for kissing someone I hardly knew in that same closet. Even though I’m eighteen now, he’d lock me into a tower and make me dig holes and ground me. And if he showed up to do even half of that, I’d be so darn happy and grateful.

Only Dad’s not coming. Not today. Today, I’m still the responsible adult.

I try to gain some control over a wash of moisture creeping out of the edges of my eyes.

I will not cry. I do not cry. Do not cry.

Joanie’s voice rockets between my ears: You will have to face the idea that you could be orphans.

I try to replace all the voices and worries in my head with my Dad’s words, like I always do: One day, one moment at a time. But this time, it doesn’t work. This whole time, I’ve been staring at Adam, who’s now settling the baby onto the couch and keeping her safe from rolling. He’s braced her half with his legs, half with a barrier of couch pillows. All while Royce, the world’s worst father, who is supposed to be doing this task for his own daughter, fails her yet again.

All of my real responsibilities and worries about Sage and our lives flood in until I snap. “That’s what you all think about me? That I’m some kind of baby? Aside from Vere, while you’ve been growing-up, working your surreal TV jobs and getting stockpiles of money by skipping around the world and completing high school with tutors and red-carpet events on the side? Oh, and being adored while staying in hotels that look like crystal-filled Persian palaces and eating room service, I’ve been around, too. I’ve moved seven times. The last move, we’d settled into Fort Bragg, North Carolina where our dad took a job as a Special Forces Captain. It was supposed to be a desk job, but then he was deployed to God knows where. Because often, if you’re Special Forces they aren’t allowed to disclose where they’re going, nor are they allowed to tell us after they’ve been assigned somewhere. The rumors flying around are that he went to Africa, but in case you haven’t noticed there’s a lot of countries in Africa.” I pull in another shaking breath. “No one’s told us which country yet or even confirmed the Africa rumor. When he was deployed, Sage and I went to live with a guardian. She’s the wife of Dad’s good friend. She was doing my father a favor by keeping us with her for the deployment. Only, once our dad went M-I-A along with her husband, she changed. Or maybe we changed, I don’t know. Either way, their status as missing has stayed unresolved for over a year.” I shrug. “I’m sure you can all imagine how that favor to keep us became a pain in her ass. She wanted to put Sage into foster care after I moved away to art school. Which is the real reason behind why I’m not going to New York City. I can’t. I’ve run away with him instead. Okay? Because we don’t have any other family besides each other. And my dad— my dad who’s a great dad —he would expect me to try to keep my brother with me. That’s why I came here, trying to find work.”

“Holy shit,” Royce stands up and begins pacing the length of the room.

“I’ve also taken care of my little brother like a real parent since he was two years old, because the mom we had?” I blink at all of them. “She ran out on us thanks to a little fun thing called heroin. And she’s never looked back. We don’t even know if she’s alive or dead, either.” I point at the now sleeping baby. “I learned what I know about babies by volunteering at a local teen mom shelter every day after school. One that’s got leaky pipes and smells like mildew. It’s also overflowing with sad girls and tiny babies just like your baby—you—horrible, neglectful, idiotic excuse for a father, you…Royce D-D-Devlin!”

I point at Royce which stops him in his tracks momentarily.

I change my voice from a scathing whisper to pure white-hot hissing fury. “It’s a place full of girls whose jerk boyfriends or…worse, assholes from one-night stands knocked them up and then ditched them while they were pregnant. Like what you obviously did when you decided on your careless, no-condom moment with this baby’s mommy.” My voice cracks. “Were you even there for one minute of the pregnancy or the birth?”

Royce is shaking his head. “No. I wasn’t.”

Adam and Vere have gasped at my harsh outburst, but I ignore them—fully intent on Royce’s answer. On getting my points across.

He rubs two fingers in his eyes before saying, “Robin, I’ll tell you again. She’s not my baby. But despite that, I do care about her. And I want her— we all want her— to have comfort and love until her mom arrives.”

“What are you going to do when the mom comes here?” I demand. “Ditch the baby with this mom? Pay her off so she doesn’t have to go on tour? Am I right? Is that what’s up, and why all of the lawyers are rushing in here? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” I glance at everyone in the room. “All of you? How can you participate in this horrible sadness?”

“No. That’s not why the lawyers are rushing in,” Royce says, biting his bottom lip, his expression growing even more dark.

I press my hands against my ears to slow the blood-rushing sound that’s happening inside my head. “Yeah, sure. Now that I know you better, Royce, I can hear you orchestrating all of this plan.” I bark out a sarcastic sounding laugh. “I’ll just bet it was your idea to come here once the article came out. I’ll bet you said stuff like: What will the tabloids say if they find out?” I’m mimicking his low-low voice. “How will this ruin things more for my charmed and beautiful life? Better to cover it all up, and then cover it up some more. Let’s go hide out at Robin’s place which is very far from La Belle Paris to handle the part where the mom comes back. Hey, and if we do this right, we can have it all done, and the baby gone before tonight’s show!” I blink at them all. Their faces are shocked. Adam’s got a hand over his mouth and his eyes are so wide they look like they’re going to fall out. “Does that sound about like what’s going on?” I shout.

Vere shakes her head slowly, as I continue, “Well, now what’s the plan now that you’ve discovered your paid-prostitute ‘closet-girl’ is also an underage, homeless, teen runaway kind of paid prostitute? Any ideas there? Anyone?”

Vere’s mouth drops open, as does Hunter’s. I figure it’s a case of pure shock, because no one’s probably ever stuck a reality check to them like I just have.

Royce sighs and paces around past the little kitchen and into the studio. He’s nervously going around my work table, picking up brushes and fiddling with the tubes of acrylic I’d left on the table. “Sadly, that does sound exactly right. And yes, we have a ton of ideas, but taken out of context it all suddenly sounds horrible. And for the record, Robin, it was Mrs. Felix and Gregory’s idea that we come here. The rest of us only heard the latest plan in the van on the way here. For once it was not mine. There’s where your assumptions went wrong. But again, we are trying to protect you.”

“Is that the new-new plan,” I say hysterically. “Or the new-extreme plan?”

“Oh wow. Oh, God. What have we done?” Hunter puts both hands through his blond hair, and he and Vere share another look while everyone else has gone completely still.

“It’s nice to think that this silence means you’re all finally hearing me.” My voice gets higher as I motion to the baby. “Royce, you can make a new plan. One that includes you being that baby’s real daddy. Reconcile with her mom somehow. Bring them on tour, even if it’s difficult. Be there while she learns to crawl and walk, and talk. Don’t leave this baby behind.”

When he starts shaking his head, a tear escapes, burning down my cheek because the longing for my own dad grows even heavier inside my heart. “Don’t talk anymore. You need to let me finish.” I hold up my hands, choking on my breaths as he paces one more lap around the table in the studio. “Your utter denial that this baby is not yours makes me hate you. Really, hate you. And, truthfully, I’ve never hated anyone in my entire life.” Another tear rolls down my face. “It breaks my heart and has actually made me crazy.”

“I’m sorry for that, Robin. It’s obvious this has gone so far out of—control.” He’s reached the windows in the studio and pausing there, he has leaned over to glance my painting. “Holy-shit, speaking of out of control. What the hell… is this?”

I quickly squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to look at him, looking at the painting I created of him. When I open them again, it’s obvious Royce has shown everyone the painting I’ve made of him.

Adam whistles. “That was beautiful. You’re so talented, Robin.”

“Gorgeous,” Vere adds, while Hunter says, “Vere. You were right. Totally right.”

“See? Absolutely crazy,” I whisper, wondering what Vere was right about, while avoiding Royce’s eyes. “You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s just a painting so…” I place my hand over my forehead, wishing for some Tylenol.

Adam’s voice reaches me past the pounding in my head. “I knew things were bad, but we have seriously messed her up, haven’t we?”

Royce speaks finally, “I’m so sorry Robin. The crazy that you’re feeling is because of us. If it helps…damn, girl…but I love this painting so much.”

Because his voice is so far away from the shouting or rude Royce that I was expecting, and he said ‘damn girl’ just how he did with the same low voice he used when he kissed me in his closet, it’s undone me.

Suddenly my tears stream down my cheeks uncontrollably. “You all say you came here, trying to protect me, but I don’t think that’s possible. By running away, I’ve already messed everything up. I can’t go back and undo what I’ve done. But you haven’t totally bombed out yet, Royce.” I point at the sleeping baby through my tears. “Can’t you see I’m trying to save you?”

“I do see it. And as much as you hate me, it’s made me adore you beyond belief. You don’t even know me, and every day I’m more and more humbled that you care about people so much. I love how that you can see such potential inside of me, despite everything I’ve been, said, and done.”

I blink back some tears, nodding—hoping he’s finally going to hear me. “Oh you do have it. So much p-potential. You—you gave Sage that thoughtful present, and you ran out to save Adam. You rode those rollercoasters even though you didn’t want to, and you have this worry-compulsion that could really work well as a parent. You would be a natural. Please. Claim her. She’s going to give you so much, and you will give her…m-more. You’ve all said how this life of yours is hard, and scary and oppressively lonely. She’s going to need a daddy, if that’s true. To be brave, strong and be her champion—her rock. The kind of dad that’s her hero.”

My voice cracks. “Sage and I were—we are—my father’s everything. Even though we never had a lot, we always had him. It’s big and earth-moving, how we love our dad. Nothing feels better than how he loves us back.” I’m sobbing openly now. “You could have that, Royce. You could give that feeling to your baby. Yet…you won’t even hardly look at her.”

I cross my arms into an empty hug and squeeze them very, very tight across my stomach as if I could stop the rolling pain caused by this conversation. More tears unleash, but I won’t care that I’ve crumpled like this front of them later, as long as Royce finally understands how important this is to his little girl.

He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving my face. This time his voice is a shaking whisper that almost matches mine. “Please…Robin. Please…don’t cry like that. She’s…not mine.”

I put my hands up to my head. “How can I ever stop crying now that you’ve said that to me again. I’ve failed. I’ve failed her. Failed everyone.”

Royce pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Read this. It’s her birth certificate.”

I unfold the stiff paper, reading through my tears but not comprehending as I whisper parts of each line I read out loud: “Born, January 1? A New Year’s baby?” I pause to drag the back of my hand over my eyes so I can see better. “Her name is Apple?” I glance up, and then look back down, scanning the small print until I land on the signatures at the bottom. “Mother: Evelyn Marie Marcus. Father: Adam—Adam Marcus?” I gasp. “Adam? You’re the father? And…you’re married to her mother? Is this the Eve that’s on your tattoo? Adam, Eve and Apple?” I tear my eyes away from the paper and look at Adam.

“My wife, she has the most amazing, bright blue eyes,” Adam whispers, nodding. “And red hair, of course. She’s the tall girl in the elevator who was featured in the newspaper article as a,” he makes air quotes. “Paid prostitute, along with you. I’m so sorry, Robin. This is all my fault.”

Adam picks the sleeping baby up and pulls her near his cheek, then places a gentle hand her little fluff-topped head, just like he’s done every day since he met me.

“Your fault…?” The puzzle pieces crash into place so hard, it feels like I’m getting hit with a hailstorm. I remember the time Adam was drunk, moaning about he didn’t have his Eve. I replay every moment he mooned over the crib looking at the baby. How he worried about her, held her, carried her, fed her, bragged about her fluffy hair, obsessed about her. “Oh my God. Why?”

“I asked Royce to cover for me and Eve. We were about to tell everyone the truth and introduce Eve and the baby to the world, but then Eve’s mom got sick. She and I had hidden our relationship from everyone for two years, and no one knew about the baby.”

“What?” I cry out again, feeling like the floor has dropped away from my feet. My eyes seek out Vere. Because I trust Vere.

She’s nodding. “Even we didn’t know until this month.”

I perch on the edge of the couch.

Adam walks back and sits, pausing to make the baby—his baby, who has been with her father this whole time—more comfortable. “I met Eve in Wales. The year we rented this castle to hide out and record our last album. It’s a year everyone’s still holding against me for all of the shenanigans I pulled, even though I’m pretty sure Wales is where we wrote the best songs of our life so far.”

“He held us hostage in that dumb castle, and delayed our album’s completion,” Hunter laughs out.

Adam shrugs helplessly. “Her family owns a cheese farm a few towns over from the castle. It’s so removed from the world, there’s only sheep and horses. It’s got spotty internet and worse cell service. It’s like another planet, and I didn’t want to leave it. She didn’t know I was in a band, and initially I didn’t tell her the truth because I never thought our friendship or relationship, whatever it was at first, would last. After we got closer, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth about who I was because I felt like it would change our relationship, and again, I didn’t ever think it would turn into forever. Eve’s shy. Not a little shy, like you are, Robin. But shy, because she has other things going on with her. Public attention, strangers, crowds—they can cripple Eve in ways that cause her such painful internal distress that it breaks my heart. She’s amazing, and she knows how to work through a lot of that now, but I thought I would lose her if she knew the truth.” He flushes with the memories. “The lies got even bigger on my part when she got pregnant. I’m so in love with her, and she with me, that there was no question about us getting married—well at least in my mind. So we did, right away; but I still couldn’t tell her. Kind of like this situation with you, Robin. It all got out of control.”

He runs his finger over Apple’s rounded cheeks. “Then…the baby was born and well…so many reasons came up to keep lying to her as the months flew past, but it was mostly because I didn’t want to share Eve or Apple with the world. You can imagine after all that time, when she did find out she was more than pissed off with me. But, thankfully she forgave me and decided she wanted to keep me, despite my job. Which meant we had to eventually go public. Despite Royce’s reservations on how we will bring a baby around the world, I’m not going on tour without my family by my side. Eve has agreed to take the year off and travel along with us. We all agreed to a month here in Orlando doing this series of shows for the parks, because I wanted a place here in the states for the news of our marriage and the baby to blow over. I also wanted a static place for Eve and the baby to get used to screaming fans and living in hotels and dashing in and out of limos and…well…you know, the utter chaos and lies that comes with being part of Guarderobe.” He grins. “You just went through a week of it, and you can see, it’s not an easy assimilation, is it?”

“No. Not easy at all.” I glance around the room at everyone’s somber faces. “No one knew the whole time you were dating? No one.”

Royce crosses his arms over his chest while Adam shakes his head. “Nope. And if you think Eve was mad, well, Hunter and I were twice as pissed about all of this lying, considering we’re his best friends!”

Hunter speaks next, “Adam had only told me and Royce about the baby, when Eve’s father called and told her mother was really sick. Sick as in, she’d had a stroke and might die back in Wales kind of sick. We were all in such a state of shock. Eve had to go right then, and when she left us so quickly with the baby we’d all only just met her. We didn’t know how to proceed.”

Adam sighs long and loud. “I thought Eve could get to her mother’s side if we postponed our announcement and let her fly home alone. While we waited for news, we decided to smokescreen her presence in the penthouse, lie about the baby, and basically we went into freak-out-panic mode which is how you got involved. We needed help.”

Vere adds, “They didn’t tell me at first, either. When Mrs. Felix and Gregory jumped to all the wrong conclusions and we backed their assumptions that the baby was Royce’s at first, that is how things spiraled.”

Royce nods. “Although I did want to kill Vere for all of her ‘new-daddy’ speeches, I had no problem pretending to be dirt-bag-daddy and smokscreening my grandmother for a few days because we all wanted time to think about what to do next. If the worst happened and Eve’s mom passed away, and there was to be a funeral, the plan would have been different. If Eve’s mom had to go to long term care, again, the plan would be different. But whatever the scenario, we wanted the press not to be involved. It was hard enough with Adam freaking out that he couldn’t be by his wife’s side at one of the saddest, scariest times of her life, because no one wants to bring a circus to a hospital. Had he accompanied her with a surprise baby in tow, that’s what would have happened.”

All I can do is shake my head. And shake my head more.

Adam adds, “I so was afraid that if the press discovered Eve and our baby, they’d go insane over this secret we’d kept. Which they will.” He nods knowingly. “She’d have been all alone and unable to handle the mayhem, because I was here keeping an eye on our daughter. Eve…if you knew her, you’d never want her to have to face the press alone. As the days dragged on while Eve’s mom was in the ICU, we just…kept on pretending the baby was Royce’s.”

Royce shakes his head. “After you were brought in, the lies or the part where you had to hate me couldn’t be stopped. That baby, she…” He points at the bundle in Adam’s arms before continuing, “She’s so tiny. That’s why I can’t hold her. Apparently, I have pure, white-hot fear of tiny fragile humans.” He swallows. “I get anxiety attacks just watching her breathe so I try to not look at her at all. When you arrived, you were so competent I felt good about backing off and letting you work. You on the day shifts, meant we could all help Adam with night shifts. We also would keep the baby awake nights so Eve could see her and play with her over Skype. She was so sad and missing her little girl, which is why the poor baby sleeps all day long. I tried to axe you that first day, but after realizing you truly needed the job, against my better judgment we kept you on, because we liked you so much.”

Vere stands, pulling herself out of Hunter’s arms. “Even Eve agreed it was good you were around once we told her about how much you loved babies. We thought we were helping you and the baby all at once.”

“If I could turn back the clock, I would have sent you away as Royce begged us to do from the start.” Adam pats the baby’s back.

“We shouldn’t have tried to keep you for more than a day or two,” Royce says in a broken, sincere voice I’ve never heard before. “We’re so sorry.” He takes one step toward me, his eyes pulling me in so hard, I have to look away.

The pounding in my head won’t stop, but finally, from very far away I hear my own voice coming out between gasping breaths, “Is…Eve’s mom okay?”

Royce’s eyes glint like he wants to say more, but answers only, “Yes. There’s going to be some recovery to get through but overall, she’s fine. She got very lucky.”

As I glance between their staring and distraught faces my eyes return to Royce’s, and the confusion that floods my head next almost makes me pass out. “Wait. So. You—aren’t the worst person in the world, are you?” I whisper.

“The day is not over yet, Robin. Let’s wait on reversing your opinion of me so quickly, shall we?”

“No.” Hunter calls out. “Our man Royce, he’s nicest, most caring, most generous best friend anyone could have.”

“It’s true. Robin, please don’t look so sad about it all. I tried to tell you, but it was so messy and complicated. We’re sorry.” Vere untwines herself from Hunter and tries to stand, but he holds her back.

“You’re all sorry,” I mutter out, staring at the names on the birth certificate. “I can’t process all this. I feel so…so…stupid, so…”

The other words I can’t say swirl through my head: Humiliated, horrified, betrayed, relieved, embarrassed. The birth certificate slips through my fingers and floats to my feet. I’m suddenly unable to look at any of them. The grief, the stress, and my exhaustion for all I’ve been hiding is about to buckle my knees, but I won’t let it happen here.

Not where these people can watch me bawling again.

The gasping gets worse. I manage to choke out, “I need to think. Need—air.”

I push past them all, shaking my head one last time at Royce, and I run.