Variation: A Novel
Variation: Chapter 31

ReaganHuang: Told you Alessandra wasn’t a liar. Pretty sure a new cast sheet will be posted soon.

I had to fix this. If Hudson and I had put Juniper into any uncertainty or danger, then I had to fix it. I needed the only person who’d known Lina better than I had—Anne.

After changing into my street clothes, I bagged my costume and set the peonies in a sinkful of water in my dressing room. Then I went looking for Anne and found her offstage at the edge of the curtain.

She took one look at me, handed the mic off to an assistant, and came my way, offering a polite smile to everyone she passed along the way. “What’s wrong?”

I pulled her down the hall and into a storage closet, then flicked the light switch and shut the door.

“Well, this is rather cloak-and-dagger, don’t you think?” She eyed the myriad of cleaning supplies and tucked one loose curl of her updo behind her ear.

The door flew open. “I thought I saw you. What are you two doing in a cleaning closet?” Kenna asked, lifting her brows. “Mom, they’re over here.”

Shit.

“Just . . .” There was no time to think this through. I shook my head and went with Hudson’s tried-and-true method of impetuousness. “Get in here.” Anne and I moved to the back while Eloise and Kenna squished themselves in and shut the door.

“And to think”—Eloise scanned our surroundings and folded her arms over her custom Prada dress—“out of everywhere in this tiny town, this is where you want to celebrate a most decisive victory?”

“We’ll get to that,” I promised. “Look, Lina made Caroline secretly promise two things in order to adopt Juniper,” I blurted, immediately getting everyone’s full attention. “That she’d never do ballet and wouldn’t search for her biological family—”

“No way.” Anne shook her head.

Eloise blinked and tilted her head, and Kenna followed suit. Like mother, like daughter.

“She did,” I assured Anne. “Naturally that last part legally expires once Juniper is eighteen, but she got it in writing—”

Anne balked. “Not do ballet? Lina would never. Everything we did this summer was because Lina would never keep her daughter from dancing.”

“I think she would.” My voice dropped to a whisper as apprehension skittered straight down my spine. If I was right, things had the potential to go incredibly bad. “Think about it. Juniper looks just like us—”

“She would have no way of knowing that,” Anne argued.

“Stop running me over and listen,” I snapped.

“Valid point,” Kenna noted.

Anne blinked. “Okay, then. Please continue.”

“Mom’s genes are strong. All four of us look similar enough to garner notice. If Lina had even suspected Juniper would be the same, and didn’t want anyone to know she existed, she’d have to make sure no one in the community ran across a little girl who looked and danced just like a Rousseau, hence the rule.” I folded my arms and hoped I didn’t sound like I’d completely lost my mind.

“Oh, that cat left the bag the second she stepped onstage. You can definitely tell she’s a Rousseau,” Eloise said. “Especially in a room full of people who have known two generations of you over the last five decades and happen to be at the Classic started by your family. Tongues will be wagging tonight at every company reception.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” My throat threatened to close.

“For hypothetical reasons, I’ll go along with this.” Anne nodded. “Closed adoptions are disappointingly common, but fine, let’s say Lina was adamant she never be found. Why?”

“Do you think Lina was embarrassed?” Kenna asked.

“Lina was impossible to embarrass.” I shook my head, and my stomach hollowed. “I thought of three potential reasons she’d impose that rule about Juniper dancing. First, she knew we’d get involved if we knew about Juniper . . . which we did.”

“Guilty.” Anne winced.

“Second, to protect the adoption. We knew Everett wasn’t her father the second we saw the certificate, but . . . Can Juniper’s biological father really contest the adoption? That’s Caroline’s fear right now.”

Every head swung toward Anne.

“Um . . .” A set of lines appeared between her brows. “In Massachusetts? I’m a little out of practice, but as far as I know, there’s no paternity registry here. If the father didn’t know about Juniper’s birth, and then established paternity, he could file a suit. What Lina did is technically fraudulent. Everett had no right to sign as Juniper’s father.”

My throat spasmed. Then Caroline had every right to be afraid. “Okay, but if Lina could keep Juniper from searching for her family, no one would ever know about Everett. No one would file a suit. And after she’s eighteen, no one’s coming for custody either.”

“Both of those make sense,” Kenna agreed. “What could possibly be her third reason for not wanting Juniper to replace you?”

My heart sank, and I opened my mouth once, then twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it, to voice the lowest possible opinion I’d ever had about my sister’s actions.

“Allie?” Anne prodded, taking my hand.

I dragged my gaze up to the only person in this room who might not dismiss my thought process just because she loved Lina, the only person who might actually agree because she thoroughly understood the variable in this equation—Mom.

Eloise arched a single brow as I looked over at her, then narrowed her eyes like she was thinking, and wasn’t sure she liked the direction of her thoughts. “Say it,” she commanded. “I’m not standing around in a broom closet for you to not say what you’re thinking, Alessandra.”

If I did, I could never take it back, but if I didn’t, there was a very real chance I was leaving Juniper vulnerable. I’m sorry, Lina.

“I think she used Juniper as leverage.” The words tripped over themselves on their way out of my mouth.

Kenna’s eyebrows shot up.

Anne gasped and pulled her hand from mine. “She wouldn’t.”

Eloise turned a knowing look on Anne. “For all of Lina’s wonderful qualities, are you forgetting whose daughter she is?”

Anne paled, and she lifted her hand to her stomach. “I think I might be sick.”

“Mom knew,” I reminded her gently. “Mom orchestrated Everett. It wasn’t just Lina making that list. It was our mother. I think Lina did her best to protect Juniper. She put her with a family in which two men we loved were raised. She knew she’d be safe. She might not have gotten along with Caroline, but she had to have known what a protective mom she’d be. She definitely knew that Gavin and Hudson would watch out for her, but, Anne . . . I’m pretty damned sure she also used Juniper’s existence to her advantage.” My heart sank as I put the most plausible pieces together. “And I don’t think she’s the only one.”

Anne paled. “You know who her father is, don’t you?” She searched my eyes. “It’s Jacob, isn’t it? He was with Lina in San Francisco, and his mother sits on the board out there. She wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize his career.”

“Are you still certified to practice in Massachusetts?” I asked, ignoring her question.

“Yes.” Her forehead crinkled. “Why?”

My phone vibrated in my back pocket. “Because we have to do what Lina wouldn’t and protect Juniper legally.” I pulled out my phone and opened the text.

Reagan: You were Amazing. You’re coming to the yacht for the reception, right?

“We need Jacob to sign a termination of parental rights,” Anne said. “A handful of NDAs wouldn’t hurt to help convince him.”

“And a medical history form,” Kenna added.

“Good idea.” Anne nodded.

“Leave the father’s name blank,” I said to Anne. “Just in case.”

She nodded. “All right. I’ll get them done this afternoon as long as Eloise doesn’t mind taking over as emcee.”

“Of course. I never turn down a microphone.” Eloise smiled. “And I’d do just about anything to get out of this closet.”

We filed out as nonchalantly as four grown women could when exiting a broom closet.

Anne and Kenna split off toward the parking lot and Eloise headed toward the stage as I typed out a reply to Reagan.

Alessandra: Thank you! I’ll see you on board.

Then I swiped to Hudson’s thread and sent a text.

Allie: Mind being my date tonight?

Blackmail required backup.

He was quick to reply.

Hudson: Every night is my preference.

“Allie,” Eloise called out, and my head shot up to replace her watching me. “I don’t think you’re wrong, which could be dangerous. I also think you need to put your eyes on your sister.”

I nodded without needing to ask which one.

I found her within thirty minutes, but let her sulk another few hours before heading upstairs.

“Stop crying and get up,” I ordered Eva, peering down at where she’d curled herself into a ball in the bottom of Lina’s closet.

“How did you know I was here?” Eva dragged the forearm of her crimson blouse over her splotchy face.

“Because this is where you always go when shit hits the fan.” I stepped out of the doorway and into Lina’s room. “It’s like you forget that Lina isn’t around anymore to cover for you. Now get up. You have to get ready so we can go to the Company reception.”

“Since when do you care about Company events?” She stood, jostling what remained of Lina’s clothes on the rack.

“Since always. I’ve been there far longer than you, remember?” I glanced around Lina’s room and remembered why I avoided coming in here at all costs. Grief lived in this room. It had dug its claws in deep, settled in, and built itself a home, lingering in her pictures and dust-covered trophies.

A sour taste filled my mouth when I thought about what she’d done, or at least had been a party to, and tried to believe what Hudson repeatedly told me. That people do irrational things when they’re scared.

Or maybe the truth was that the Lina I thought I knew wasn’t the same Lina Mom loved, wasn’t the same Lina Anne cried over, wasn’t the same Lina Eva had hidden behind. Maybe she was a dozen different things to a dozen different people, switching out her mask as necessary.

Maybe only Lina had truly known Lina.

And until I’d come back here, until Juniper had shoved Hudson back into my life with two enthusiastic hands, I’d been dangerously close to saying the same thing about me.

“You hate the Company.” Eva sniffled and walked out of the closet.

“I don’t . . . hate it,” I said quietly, looking over Lina’s pictures. “I’m just not always sure I like who I am within it.” I glanced her way and found her clutching her phone. “And I know I don’t like who you are within it. What are you doing with that phone?”

“I’m getting canceled,” Eva admitted, sitting on the edge of Lina’s bed and holding her phone in her lap. “There’s at least fifty videos already, and I’m sure you’ll say I deserve it.”

I sat down next to her, depressing the old mattress. “Yeah, that sucks. My best advice is to avoid the comments at all costs.”

“I kind of hate you,” she whispered, swiping the app closed.

“I figured that out right around the time that you orchestrated my cancellation. Fortunately for us, I think it’s a case of jealousy eating your common sense and not actual hatred.” My gaze caught on a framed picture of the four of us from the one and only time Dad had snuck us out to a theme park.

“What’s it like to be the chosen one?” She raked her sleeve across her cheek again.

“What’s it like to be the whiny one?” I countered. “Seriously, Eva. You’re twenty-five, not fifteen. No one’s left you behind. No one’s dancing en pointe while you look on longingly. I understand wanting to step out of the shadows, but maybe the answer is to look for another source of light.”

“It’s the Company,” she whispered. “Mom’s company.”

I sighed. “I speak from experience when I say the validation you’re starving for isn’t going to come from her—”

She shriveled.

“—or anybody in there.” I pointed to her phone. “You and I both know she isn’t capable of telling us she’s proud, and that’s complete and utter unfair shit that’s going to take a few years and a lot of hours in therapy to unpack.”

“How long did it take you?” she asked.

“Considering I just nearly broke myself to prove to Vasily that I’m still one of his principals? I’ll let you know when I get there.” I glanced at her phone. “I’ll also give you the new password, so you can at least take the video down.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Her brow scrunched.

“Yes, I’m incredibly mad at you.” I shrugged. “But unfortunately, I still love you. You’re my sister. You bring me bagels from New York and save my stuff when Charlotte throws it out of my locker, so I will give you the password and one chance to make this right between us.”

“There’s no point to taking it down. It has all those stitches already.” Her shoulders sagged. “And it’s just you dancing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.” She slowly looked my way with swollen red eyes. “This is horrible.”

“Yeah. It hurts.” I reached over and clasped Eva’s hand. “Real life is what happens out here, you know. With me, with Anne, with your friends, at the barre, on the stage. That . . .” I glanced pointedly at her phone. “That is just a sparkly hall of mirrors, and staring too long through the lens of how other people perceive you is bound to start distorting how you see yourself. Delete the account, or at least deactivate it for a while, if only so you don’t live on Lina’s closet floor.”

“It’s a lot of followers,” she whispered, covering her phone defensively.

“It’s just an idea.” The hardwood squeaked beneath my feet as I stood, letting go of her hand. “But I can’t give you the luxury I had of retreating to bed. I need you to get ready for the reception while I shower and do the same, because we need to help our niece. Apologies are more than words, Eva, and I’m giving you one chance to fix what you broke, or I swear I’ll go no-contact on your ass. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “What do I have to do?”

I picked up the picture of us and sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure it’s nothing you haven’t done before.”