Page 12 of Fame & Rhythm

“Mum?”

“Yes, darling?”

I look down at my hands. Now that we’re talking, I may as well ask. “Do you think… I mean, do you know anything about my birth parents?”

She goes still for half a second. I feel it in the way her hand tightens around mine. “Are you thinking about them more lately?” she asks.

I look up and nod.

She exhales. “Okay. Well… I don’t know anything about them. We chose not to see any identifying details. We were only given your medical history and the things that might matter for your future.” Her expression softens. “I’m sorry, Annie. I really don’t know who they were or where they lived.”

I press my lips together and nod. “It’s okay. I just… I don’t know. It’s hard not knowing where you came from.”

“I understand that,” she says gently. “But Annie, just because you share someone else’s DNA doesn’t mean you’re alone. We are your family… your father, Ella, me. We love you, no matter where you came from. Your past matters because it shaped you, but it doesn’t define whether you belong here. You do. You always will.”

My eyes sting, and suddenly I’m crying.

“Oh, honey,” Mum murmurs, pulling me into her arms. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says. “And I’m sorry today brought all of this up. But just remember… if your birth parents hadn’t given you up, you might have had a completely different life. And selfishly, I can’t imagine mine without my little purple-haired wildcat.”

A laugh slips out through my tears, and I scrub at my face. “I’m sorry I yelled at you today,” I say. “I just don’t know how to control my anger.”

She nods slowly. “I know.” Then she hesitates. “I could take you to talk to someone, if you wanted.”

I blink at her. “What, like a shrink?”

She smiles, holding back a laugh. “They’re not as scary as they sound. And they’re not just for people who are falling apart. Your father and I have both seen one. After my accident, we went quite a lot. And again, after surrogacy failed.” Her expression stays calm and open. “Sometimes it just helps to have someone outside the family give you tools to deal with things. Anger, hurt, questions… all of it.”

“I don’t need a shrink, Mum. I’m not crazy—”

“No one said you were,” she says gently. “That’s not what it means.”

“Can’t I just talk to you instead?” I ask.

Her face softens immediately, and she leans in to hug me again. “Of course you can. You can talk to me about anything. Always. You’re my daughter, and I love you. I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you too, Mum.” I sniff and wipe at my face again. “I guess I just need time to process that I’ll probably never meet my birth parents. It makes me sad… but also weirdly relieved.”

“That makes sense.”

I let out a breath. “What if they were horrible? Or worse… what if they didn’t even like rock and roll? What if they were hippies living in a commune with hairy armpits and no deodorant?”

Mum laughs and shakes her head. “Well, sweetheart, I guess we’ll never know. But if it helps, maybe you can picture them however you want. Build an image of them that brings you peace, and hold onto that instead of every awful possibility.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So… make something up and stick with that?”

“If it helps.”

I think about it for a second. “Mum, can I ask you another question?”

“Of course, Annie. You can ask me anything.”

I hesitate, then exhale. “Honestly… what’s your real opinion on Staked?”

Mum’s smile brightens. “Annie, I can spot talent a mile away, and what you, your sister, and the rest of your band are doing is amazing. You’ve still got things to learn, but with your father and Uncle Hux guiding you, I have no doubt you’ll be playing to packed stadiums one day.” She pauses, her expression softening slightly.