Chapter 1 I reminded myself to breathe as I pushed open the counselor's door and stepped through. My second year at the Brooklyn Art Institute-known as BAI to the locals-wasn't off to the best start. The prestigious New York college turned out an inordinate number of talented performers who hit it big on Broadway after graduation. The need to be one of those elite performers settled deep in my chest, causing my pulse to leap into my throat and hammer double time. Broadway. The Metropolitan Opera House. The New York Philharmonic. I'd take any of them, but Broadway was the dream that had pushed me to earn the music scholarship that allowed me to attend BAI. I deserved to be here. I sucked air through the tightness in my throat and did my best to smile at Mrs. Collins. "Hello." She dipped her head in a light nod, an easy smile creasing her cheeks. Mrs. Collins had the kind of face that made everyone want to smile. "Congratulations on the understudy role. I hear you've been cast as Cosette." "Yes, ma'am." I sank into the plush chair across from her narrow wooden desk and set my bookbag at my feet. "It's like living a dream." Her brows came down slightly, and she laced her fingers together on top of the desk. "I understand how you feel, Harmony. This year's production of Les Misérables is shaping up to be our best yet. And I've heard you sing, so I know Professor Bellington will do all he can to prepare you should you need to step into the role." The mention of Bellington's name popped an image of him into my mind. Kind and studious with black-rimmed glasses that accentuated his crystal-blue eyes, combined with a strong jaw and aquiline nose, made him one of the heartthrobs of the college professors. One of three, but I didn't have time to think about that while staring at Mrs. Collins. "It's overwhelming to be chosen, especially since I'm just a sophomore." I tried to keep my voice controlled, but the knot returned. How was it that talking with my professors, and even someone as kind and helpful as Mrs. Collins, threatened to choke me, but put me on stage and I couldn't keep from singing? "Well, you certainly deserve the spot." Mrs. Collins glanced down at the sheaf of papers in front of her. "What concerns me are your grades. Math and Italian, to be exact." I shifted uncomfortably in the seat, crossing and uncrossing my ankles. My sneakers scuffed her blue carpet, and I watched a tiny spider crawl across the bookshelf to my right while I fought for the words I needed. "It's my duty to keep you informed, and this is deeply concerning. You're a bright and talented woman. I don't want to see that go to waste because of a few poor grades." The smile stayed in place even as she delivered the news. She reached across the desk and patted my hand where it gripped the arm of the chair so tight my nails punctured the cloth. "To be perfectly honest, you're getting close to academic probation." I'd known my grades in those two classes were poor, but probation? "You had a shaky freshman year." Mrs. Collins flipped through the papers that must be a printout of my grades. "If you drop much further, I'll be forced to put you on probation. From there, you'll have three months to bring your grades up to par before you lose the scholarship. I don't want that to happen. Which is why I've brought you in now. To give you a chance to turn things around." I couldn't afford to lose my scholarship. The private college tuition was astronomical, and as the kid of a single mother working her ass off to raise me, Mom didn't have the financial stability to take over my tuition. The weight of it fell on me, and I straightened my shoulders despite the tears blurring my vision. "What can I do?" I would not roll over and quit. My dreams were worth fighting for, and damn it, I was going to fight like hell to stay. "Tutoring is always my first suggestion. You're in the sorority house with your friend Delilah and Leighona, among others. Talk with your fellow classmates, see if any of them are willing to help." Relaxed and poised-like she didn't just deliver the most devastating news of my life-Mrs. Collins leaned into her chair and tipped her head toward the window. Sunlight streamed in, creating lines that cut across her desk and my lap. The small office had felt claustrophobic the first time I'd entered and sat down to discuss my future. That same feeling invaded now, pressing the walls in so tight I thought I might scream. "I'm sorry to drop the news on you and then send you on your way." She stood, her hand motioning in a gesture that meant she was ready for me to leave. I stood, my legs shaking just enough to make me wobbly. "Thank you for letting me know." I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I'll figure something out." "Atta girl." Mrs. Collins patted my shoulder, simultaneously comforting me while ushering me on my way. The door closed behind me with a quiet snick, and I stood in the foyer of the administrative building with my head a mess of questions. A short breath of the harsh cleaners they used on the floors cleared my head and put energy in my steps. I turned toward the glass doors that opened onto the quad and broke into a jog that carried me across the green grass and between knots of students studying, laughing, and making out all around me. They passed in a blur as I lost the war against the tears I'd been holding back. The tears didn't stop even when the brick facade of our sorority house came into view. My lungs threatened to burst from the combination of running and crying, and by the time I pushed through the front door, it was all I could do to collapse on the short love seat in the living room. The TV blared in the study. Laughter tinged the air with happiness I couldn't feel. "Harmony?" Delilah, my best friend and roommate, strode in from the open doorway that led to the kitchen. She held a banana in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her dark hair hung in a curtain over her shoulders and down her back, her brown eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" I used the tail of my T-shirt to dry my face, doing my best to control the hiccupping brought on by my savage tears. I told her everything. "I'm failing Math and Italian. If I don't get my grades up, I'm going to lose my scholarship. Mom can't pay for this, Delilah. She can't. I'll be forced to leave, and I'll never sing on stage." Delilah sank onto the love seat, set her water on the small, round side table, and put an arm over my shoulders. "Okay. That's intense. But we'll figure something out." I almost shook my head and let the despair whisk me away. I'd told Mrs. Collins that I would figure it out. But right now, I wanted to bitch and moan about the unfairness of it all. Why did I need Math and Italian, anyway? I scrubbed both hands over my face and drew a shuddering breath. "Mrs. Collins suggested tutoring." Delilah handed me the water, and I chugged it, emptying the bottle in seconds. My best friend considered me. "Yeah, I mean, that's an option. Any idea who you can ask?" "No. Even if I find somebody, how will I pay them? It's not like my scholarship offers anything like that. The only thing I'm good at is singing." The icy water did wonders for my scratchy throat. I rubbed it gently. I had a class tomorrow with Professor Bellington. My theater professor would not consider crying a valid excuse for being unable to sing. He was kind and considerate to everyone in class, but I didn't know how far that kindness might stretch if I showed up too stuffed up to practice. Leighona walked out of the study, caught sight of us, and crossed her arms. "What's going on?" Tall and willowy, with long, red hair and snapping green eyes, Leighona owned the stage every time she walked out. As her understudy, we'd had a cautious but decent friendship. Since Leighona had seniority over me, and the perfectly rich voice for Cosette, I had no hopes of getting a chance to play the part I coveted with my entire being. One chance. I just needed that one chance for someone to see me, to see my talent and whisk me away to stardom. Was that too much to ask? "Nothing." Delilah stroked my shoulder. "PMS." I startled at the lie, and Delilah squeezed my arm in clear warning. Leighona snickered, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Per sorority house rules, as my little sister, I recommend a long, hot bath, plenty of Midol, and a nap. There are heating pads in the hall closet. Chocolate is in the kitchen." "Thanks." My chin quivered as another bout of tears surged. Leighona gave me a concerned look. "Do you need to go to the doctor? My ob-gyn is great." "I'm good." I sniffled and tried to stop crying. "I'll be fine." Delilah leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear. "Don't tell her about any of this. She'll use it to her advantage." "Why did you convince me to pledge to this house, knowing I'd be working with her?" I'd wondered for a while but never asked. Delilah had been adamant that we pledge here. It wasn't until after it was over and we'd been accepted that Leighona and I realized we were both theater majors and would be competing against each other for lead roles. Delilah stood, pulling me up with her. "Because this is the best sorority house, and Leighona is a year ahead of you. Work with her, and you're guaranteed to get the best role your senior year. Let her do her thing, be her friend, then you can reap the rewards of that friendship while also gathering your own following." It sounded so cold, so clinical and calculating, that I side-eyed Delilah. Where did all that come from? "Remember why you're here." Full smile in place, Delilah walked me to the kitchen. She dug the bag of chocolate from the drawer beside the refrigerator and slid it over the counter where I'd sank onto the white bar stool and cupped my hands on either side of my face. The kitchen was the least used space in the entire house. Most of us ate our meals in the cafeteria or in town with friends. Cooking options were limited unless we did one of our rare grocery hauls to fill the cabinets. Most of my sorority sisters had the palate of a toddler. Fruit snacks and crackers lined the shelves, along with cases and cases of drinks. The pristine white and chrome kitchen gave us peace and quiet. "I have to figure this out, Del. Mom can never know about any of this. She'd be devastated. And she'd try to pick up a third job." I couldn't allow that. Delilah opened the refrigerator with a huff of air and dragged two bottles of my favorite flavored water from the depths. "You bet your ass we're figuring this out. I'm not losing my best friend." She sat across from me and smiled. "You're a badass on that stage, Harmony. No one is going to stand in your way." Courage infused my spine. I lifted the water and clanked it against the matching bottle she held out. "Damn right." A single mother returns to the city she left seven years ago after breaking up with her ex to seek treatment for her son’s leukemia. Upon learning of her return, the ex immediately searches for the lo...