The live interview set was all white light and fake warmth, and Daphne had been sitting in it for eleven minutes.
Under her sleeve, the countdown read eleven days. It had not moved once since she walked in.
The interviewer asked Cleo where the song came from. Cleo lowered her eyes like the answer cost her something.
Cleo: It was a gift. From someone who loves me more than she loves being seen.
Cleo reached across and put her hand on Daphne's arm. Her eyes went shiny on cue.
Cleo: Daph, I'll never be able to thank you enough.
Julian was in the front row, because of course he was.
Julian: Cleo's being modest. Daphne gave it freely. Nobody made her do anything.
Daphne had heard enough. She leaned toward the mic.
Daphne: I wrote it. Every word. In my apartment, on a keyboard with two dead keys.
The audience made a low sound, like a room full of people all deciding to whisper at once.
The interviewer's smile froze. He asked if Daphne was calling her sister a liar, live, on camera.
Cleo: Daphne's been under so much stress. She gets confused about what's hers and what's mine.
Cleo's smile did not move. Her fingers did, curling hard into the armrest until the skin went white.
Julian: Come on. Don't do this to her on live television. Think about your family.
His hand landed warm on her knee, and his voice went soft the way it used to when he wanted something.
Her pulse jumped before her mind caught up. She hated that most of all.
She picked his hand off her knee and dropped it.
Daphne: Touch me again and I'll say the rest on air. Do you want that?
In the dark wing of the set, Soren Thane stood perfectly still. He had not moved since Cleo started crying.
His eyes passed over Julian and Cleo and landed on Daphne, and something in his face said he was enjoying himself.
Cleo: I never said I wrote it. Everyone just assumed. Why are you punishing me for that?
The tears were good. They were always good. Cleo's chin wobbled, and half the room made a soft sound of pity.
Daphne: Here's what I want the room to hear.
Daphne: I'm not your secret. I'm not a voice you hide behind a curtain while she smiles.
Daphne: And I'm never going back to being nothing so you can be something.
The interviewer asked the obvious question on behalf of every phone watching at home.
Julian: She's hurting. She doesn't mean it.
Daphne: You held my hand at a party for three years and never once said my name out loud.
Daphne: You want my loyalty. You just don't want it in public.
Julian said nothing. That silence was the most honest thing he had given her all year.
Cleo: Well. I guess the votes will decide who's telling the truth.
She laughed a small, brave laugh, and the chat on the screen behind her flooded with hearts for her.
Daphne stood up. She pulled her sleeve down over the number and did not look at her sister.
Daphne: Then let's give them something to vote on.
Eleven days left. The old balance had its first public crack, and she had put it there.