Page 21 of Fame & Rhythm

“Yeah,” I say, pushing myself up. “What’s wrong?”

“I had another dream.”

I shift, patting the mattress. “Come here.”

She closes the door behind her and climbs onto the bed. The second she sits down, I can see the tears streaking down her cheeks, so I pull her into a hug.

“Elle’s Bells… you know it’s not real, right?” I murmur.

She nods, wiping at her face. “But what if it is? What if it’s… like a memory or something?”

I shake my head gently. “Ella, you were six months old. You wouldn’t remember anything like that.”

She climbs further onto the bed, settling beside me, leaning back against the pillows. “Their faces were dark,” she says quietly. “I couldn’t see them. I never can. But I knew they were my parents.” I stay quiet, letting her talk. “They were leaning over me… telling me they didn’t want me, that I was a waste of space. That they wished I had never been born.”

My chest tightens, and I blink hard as tears sting my eyes.

Not just because she’s hurting.

Because I’ve thought the same things.

“Well… even if that were true,” I say carefully. “You know we’re better off here, right? With Mum and Dad.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I just… I wish the dreams would stop. They’re always different, but it’s always the same feeling. That they didn’t want me.” She swallows. “How are we supposed to deal with that?”

I don’t have an answer.

I hate that this is something we both carry. But at the same time… it is what ties us together.

We might not share blood, but we share this.

Our pasts. The parts we don’t understand.

“I think we just keep doing what we always do,” I say softly. “We talk to each other. We don’t deal with it alone.”

She leans into me, and I wrap my arm around her.

“You can come in here anytime,” I say. “You’re my sister, Ella. I love you. And I get it. I feel it too.”

“Don’t tell Mum or Dad,” she says quickly. “I don’t want them worrying.”

I nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I won’t. This is ours.”

She sniffs, her breathing starting to settle. “Can I stay in here tonight?” she asks. “In case I dream again?”

My chest aches for her.

“Of course you can. As long as you need.”

She smiles faintly, then pulls the covers back and slides in beside me. I lie back, and she curls into my side, and I hold her close.

When she has these dreams, it’s not just her who needs the comfort.

It’s me too.

“Thank you, Annie,” she whispers.

I tighten my hold on her. “I love you, Ella.”