Chapter 30

Raegan

I bolt upright in my bunk at the pounding on the bus door. I expect Micah to intercept before I can get there first, but his bunk curtain is open, his bed empty. My pulse kicks up speed as the insistent pounding continues. My sleepy morning brain is too foggy to glance through the window first, but even if I had, I would have been just as surprised to see Adele waiting on the other side of it. Given the state of things between us, I figured I was months out from being summoned by her directly.

I've barely unlatched the door when she pushes herself inside. "Where's Hattie?"

"Asleep." What other answer could there be at this hour? Hattie's been in her bunk since I got in from the Ferris wheel with Micah last night. And to my knowledge, she hasn't come out.

Adele wastes no time in striding back to Hattie's bunk and rousing her, demanding she join us in the front lounge immediately. She stumbles toward us a moment later, tightening her robe around her waist and shielding her eyes.

"Mama and Micah are gone," Adele announces.

It's such a strange combination of words to be strung together that they don't feel real. "Gone where?"

She shakes the paper in her fist. "According to the note she left, to Idaho."

"What?" Hattie and I screech in unison.

"Apparently our mother was on the phone arranging all sorts of plans with Jana last night while I slept on the sofa in her trailer." She thrusts the paper in our direction. "Here."

I take it as Hattie and I push together to read.

To my darling daughters three:

In light of last night, I've expedited our final destination to today. While I imagined momentary tensions flaring up here and there, I see now how blind I've been to the much deeper issues among us. And for that, I surely share some blame.

As much as I've desired to leave a legacy to the world through my music, it is nothing compared to the legacy I've desired to leave to my daughters. It's for this reason I'm asking you to meet me in a special place I pray will outlast my greatest hit.

Micah has graciously agreed to be my driver for the day, and I've arranged for Cheyenne to stay back and rehearse with the band in my place until I'm back for the 8:00 p.m. call time tonight. Her daddy will be arriving to the Gorge by lunchtime to see her in concert and to watch over her in our absence. You'll find a blue Jeep waiting for the three of you girls in the VIP lot. Cheyenne has the keys for you. It will take you approximately three hours to arrive.

See you soon.

I love each of you dearly,

Mama

There's an address penned at the bottom of her letter, but even after I read the whole thing through a second time, it makes little sense.

"She just ... left us here?" Hattie asks, sounding as bewildered as I feel.

"Obviously, she's still reeling from Raegan's forced confession last night," Adele expresses with a notable lack of eye contact. "I've already tried to call their phones. No answer."

I ignore her jab and immediately close myself into the bathroom to freshen up and do a quick change of clothes. When I emerge, both my sisters are still discussing what to do, as if the letter hadn't been clear.

"I'm ready," I say, swiping my sunglasses and purse off the counter and a fruit smoothie from the fridge. I haven't had time to analyze much this morning, but I'm certainly not going to stay here and wallow in the bus all day while Mama and Micah are out somewhere waiting for us. "I'll get the keys and meet you both at the rental."

They both turn to look at me as if my suggestion is nothing short of outrageous, which is why I decide to make another one. "I can drive us unless one of you would rather—"

"I'll drive," Adele cuts in, just as I knew she would. "Hattie, meet us out there in ten. The sooner we get to the end of whatever this is, the sooner I can fly myself and my daughter back home to Tennessee."

To no one's surprise, there is zero conversation in the Jeep between us girls as Adele drives this unfamiliar stretch of highway into an equally unfamiliar state. Given the sibling pecking order, Hattie's riding shotgun while I'm in the back seat, and since the only sound in the vehicle is a radio station that's primarily static, my mind has plenty of time to replay the events of last night and plot them into a story—the whole of it.

Though I'm tempted to stop my mental outline at Adele's fury and Hattie's refusal to look at me after I revealed Peter's latest scheme, I continue onward. I replay the scene in my mind, watching myself load into a passenger car on a Ferris wheel with Micah and hearing the convicting words he spoke loop around my heart:

"You know exactly what to do with your family. You wrote it all in your book."

"You've been a passive character in your own story for far too long."

"Freedom and peace work in tandem. And you won't experience either until you're finally willing to be transparent with yourself and others."

Tears burn behind my eyes as I surrender my heart to this difficult truth and to the God who is not afraid of the secrets I've kept, or the masks I've hidden behind for years.

Unbidden, I picture the conclusion of my fiction novel: three sisters hugging it out under a night sky full of stars, vowing to fight for each other and not against. It's an ending that seems so unrealistic compared to where my own siblings and I are currently at with one another, and yet The Sisters of Birch Grove is not the only ending I've read recently. There's another story with eerily similar themes about the complexities of sisterhood. One with a bittersweet ending that didn't come until after thirty years of silence and regret.

When we veer off the highway onto an old country road, I stare out the window to see a patchwork of green—from trees, to grass, to forested mountains and lush valleys. It's passing by me in such a blur, but the longing I feel to stop and set up camp here is nothing short of overwhelming. To know the kind of freedom Micah speaks about at a soul-deep level feels impossible, and yet I want to believe it can be mine, too.

If I'm willing to be honest.

"Please pull over, Adele," I say, leaving no time to second-guess.

Hattie's head swings around the passenger seat, and Adele flicks her gaze to me in the rearview mirror.

"We only have an hour to go," she refutes. "I'd rather wait until we're—"

"It's an emergency." I don't know how my voice doesn't tremble at these words or what will happen after I step outside this Jeep, but I do know this is where the hiding has to end for me. And, I can only hope, for all of us.

Adele pulls off to the side and taps her emergency flashers. When I step onto a patch of lush green grass and wildflowers, I face the Jeep and study the two of them through the windshield.

Please help me, God. Meet us here.

Adele and Hattie glance at each other and then crack their windows.

"Raegan, what on earth are you doing?" Adele asks.

"I want to talk."

"Then why did you get out of the car?"

"Because I want to talk out here, the three of us."

She must see I'm willing to wait her stubbornness out, because Adele is the first to unclick her seatbelt.

"This is ridiculous," I hear her mutter to Hattie from behind the protection of the glass.

Begrudgingly, they step out of the car and assess me. Adele does, anyway. Hattie hasn't made more than 2.3 seconds' worth of eye contact with me since last night.

I meet them halfway. "I haven't been honest with either of you."

Adele narrows her eyes at me as if I left my frontal lobe back on the tour bus. "We're aware."

I shake my head. "You're not, actually; there's a lot more to it than the events of the last two weeks."

Adele holds out her palms and begins to head back to the Jeep. "I can't do this again, Raegan. I physically cannot do another big round of—"

"I screwed up by not telling you what I found out as soon as I heard it. I was wrong. And I was scared. And I'm truly, deeply sorry for everything my actions may have jeopardized for you personally and for the label you've worked so hard to save since Daddy died. I know you're furious with me, but I hope, in time, you can forgive me."

The raw apology hangs between us, and it must be enough to make her reconsider going back to the Jeep because she turns around.

I look at my middle sister. "And I'm sorry, Hattie, for convincing myself I was protecting you from more hurt when really I was protecting myself by avoiding a conversation I was too afraid to have with you."

I gesture to them both. "I don't want this to be where our sisterhood fractures beyond repair. And it could be, if things continue on like this." I expect some pushback from Adele, but she only stares at me. "I always believed some big scandal was the reason for Mama and Lynn's breakup." I shake my head. "But I read her journals. Twenty years of friendship and music were destroyed due to unresolved resentments."

I press my lips together and draw from a strength that is not my own. "The truth is, I've been carrying around a lot of unspoken resentments, too. I've resented being a full-time employee of the family, where every boundary line seems blurred. I've resented that my relationship with my oldest sister is only defined by her role as my boss. I resent the lack of autonomy I have over my schedule—that how I spend my time, and who I spend that time with, and what I spend that time on has been dictated for me in the name of the family business. And I resent that I've been asked to minimize the thing I'm most passionate about by the person whose opinion I've always respected most." I purse my lips. "But not nearly as much as I resent myself for not speaking up sooner.

"I've spent far more time worrying about how you see me, Adele, than asking God what He sees. I convinced myself that my usefulness to this family was synonymous with my value. And I actually believed that creating a secret identity and writing under a pen name would be a better alternative than standing my ground." I search the unsettled expression on my sister's face. "Sometime in the years since Daddy died, I've lost the ability to separate what it means to be a daughter and sister from what it means to be a Farrow." A tear slips out from the corner of my eye. "And I desperately want to find that again, which is why I won't be working for the family any longer." My lips quiver. "I'm quitting, effective immediately."

I expect Adele to meet my statement with a rebuke—tell me how immature and self-centered I am to bail on the family after all the heartache I caused last night—only, Adele doesn't look ready for a fight. She looks ... tired. Weary. Broken.

"You may not believe this, and I suppose I've given you little reason to," Adele says in a voice that hardly sounds like her own, "but I've never envied you more than I do right now. And I've envied your life for decades." She meets my stunned gaze. "I've resented your freedom as the youngest child, as well as the differences in our responsibilities to the family. Perhaps that's why I felt justified in pushing you as hard as I did once you moved back home." She swallows and rubs her lips together as if uncertain where to go next. "That separation you speak of, between family life and work life, that's felt like a fantasy to me since Daddy gave me a desk at the label." When her voice trembles, she clears her throat. "I thought it might finally be possible when this investor opened negotiations with us, but I never counted on it. Not in the same way Michael and Mama did."

Guilt presses down on me at the repercussions my actions have had on our family. "Adele, I'm—"

"No, listen." She cuts me off. "I'm not saying you weren't wrong for keeping the book a secret, but I was equally as wrong for how I handled it. I took my stress and disappointment out on you last night, the same way I've been doing since Peter showed his true colors." She hesitates. "I'm sorry. It's something I need to change. My cardiologist has made that plenty clear."

"Your cardiologist?" Hattie's distress over the word mirrors my own.

Adele blows out a deep exhale and then stretches her neck side to side. "Michael's the only one who knows this, mostly because I couldn't risk it getting out during our search for an investor, but also because he was the one to drive me to the hospital after I collapsed in our home office. The doctors ruled the episode as a minor heart attack, but I'm at risk for another one if I don't make some changes."

"Adele!" Hattie slaps a hand to her mouth, her eyes filled with horror. "When was this?"

"Shortly after Peter won the lawsuit and we were losing artists left and right. I was up almost every night, crunching numbers and trying to figure out a way to save the label from bankruptcy for a second time. Michael's been on me to step down, constantly telling me to think of Cheyenne and Mama and you girls—and I do! But Daddy trusted me to manage his legacy. I don't want to fail him." She swallows whatever emotion is trying to rise. "So I've added natural supplements, prepackaged, nutrient-dense meals, and a watch with a step tracker, hoping it will be enough to offset the burden until we find the right partner. If we find them."

"And Mama doesn't know?"

Adele nods gravely. "She knows I'm concerned about my blood pressure—but I haven't told her why. Not after what happened to Daddy."

Icy fingers of fear walk my spine. I desperately wish I could offer her a solution, but before I can even ask her another question about the investor, Hattie starts crying. At first, it's a few tears, and then it's an onslaught.

Adele and I look from her to each other.

"Hattie, I see my cardiologist every other month, you don't—"

"No." She sobs before she buries her face in her hands. "That's not ... why I'm ... upset."

"Okay," Adele says, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm the author!" she wails. "The one working with the ghostwriter. It's not Peter, it's me." She slaps a hand to her chest. "I'm the reason the partnership is at risk, Adele, not Raegan. She didn't know."

The sun seems to make a full revolution around the earth with how long it takes me to comprehend what she's saying. Hattie's the anonymous author of the tell-all?

"But why? Why would you ever agree to write something like that?"

"Because I can't lose my kids!" She swipes under her eyes with the hem of her cotton shirt. "After Peter won the wrongful termination case, he threatened to take my kids away from me permanently. He said he has all sorts of ammunition he can use against me when the time is right, including my struggle with depression. I was scared—I'm still scared." The tears come again. "He left me with the mountain of debt he was incurring long before his affair came out." She wipes her face on her sleeve. "I have nothing to my name outside of what's left in my trust from Mama, and most of that is what I used to buy Peter out of half of every asset we owned together. I've sold jewelry, clothing, shoes, furniture, designer luggage. I even mortgaged the house three months ago to pay down the lines of credit he took out before he filed for divorce."

"Oh, Hattie," I say as a sudden memory of her declined credit card that night in Tulsa surfaces to mind. "I had no idea things were so bad."

She blows out a shaky breath. "Peter's story was everywhere, and for a long time I took Adele's advice and ignored the reporters. But not long after he threatened to fight me for full custody of the kids, an editor from Willow House emailed. She convinced me to call her back and take advantage of this rare opportunity to piggyback on Mama's recent resurgence in the spotlight. The advance they offered more than covered what I needed for a retainer to secure a new team of divorce lawyers who specialized in custody cases. After they agreed to take my case, I agreed to the book deal. The editor assured me it would be easy since I would just be recounting the memories and stories Mama always told us to a ghostwriter. She told me she'd just need a few exclusive details and a few family secrets—true or not—in order to get the book to sell. I never imagined they would spin it as a tell-all or how much they'd hound me for more and more personal information. At one point they told me I didn't have enough content to fill the word count we negotiated, and if I didn't provide them with more, I would be in breach of contract. That's when I told them the stories Peter told me about the history Daddy had once confided in him about the label—both with Farrow Music and TriplePlay."

Her confession hovers like a cloud above us, and neither Adele nor I speak for several seconds. Adele turns and paces in the gravel silently. It's clear she's struggling. I am, too.

"Why didn't you tell us Peter was threatening to take the kids?" I ask.

"Because I knew what he'd already cost the label. I couldn't go back to Adele and ask for more money when I knew the only reason we were in this mess was because I pushed Daddy to hire him in the first place." Hattie waits for Adele to turn and face her. "You were right about him from the start, and I didn't listen. You were always the one getting special attention for being smart and wise and savvy while I've been the one causing problems. For once, I wanted to feel chosen. Peter made me feel that way ... at least, he did at first." Her face is pained, and she sucks in a breath. "I'm so sorry. I tried to get out of this contract—I called Willow House as soon as we left the Redwoods that day and told her I wanted out of the deal, and that I'd find a way to repay the advance even if I have to make payments for the next five years. But she said it's binding. No matter what move I make, the people I love suffer for it."

"Oh, Hattie." Adele's voice trembles, her expression chastened. "Do you really believe I hold you accountable for Peter's transgressions against us?"

My sister doesn't look up as she answers. "I don't know why you wouldn't."

I watch Adele's face crumple at that, her eyes glassy and her voice broken. "Then I'm an even bigger failure than I realized. I don't blame you, Hattie. And I'm sorry if I've made you believe otherwise." It's several seconds before she can compose herself long enough to speak again. "I'd cash out every asset I own before I'd let Peter take your kids away from you."

"Me too," I say. "You're not alone in this, Hattie. You have us and you have Mama."

I wrap my arms around Hattie at the same time Adele moves in. When her arms enfold over top of mine, I openly cry at the realization that this is the first sisterly embrace I can remember since the three of us stood at our Daddy's graveside. And with everything in me, I hope that what started here on this road will be the first chapter of a new story together.