Charlotte's gaze melts, a tear trailing down her cheek that she quickly brushes away.
“You mean that?” Preston looks up at me, his eyes searching mine.
“Yeah. I mean all of it. I can’t wait to hang out more, take you to ball games or museums or whatever you enjoy.” I hold his gaze, and before I know what’s happening, he slams into me. Charlotte’s hand covers her mouth as more emotion takes over her face, and I hug her brother tight. “I always wanted a little brother,” I tell him quietly. “I’m happy it gets to be you.”
“Thanks, Sutton,” he whispers against me.
My chest feels a little wet so I just hold him for a moment before I release him and we both wipe our eyes.
“Why don’t you go and check out the bedrooms. You can take first pick,” Charlotte tells him, and he gives her a smile before jumping up to go explore.
I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly, my eyes still blurry with tears. “That got heavy quickly.”
“I had no idea he felt like that.” She sits next to me, and I pull her to my chest.
“He’s a pretty smart kid. Takes after you in that regard.”
“He also got my inability to dance, my total incoordination at anything remotely rhythmic.”
I grin, because she moves just fine on me; the rest doesn’t matter.
Lightening the mood, I ask what I’ve been curious about since we stepped into this house. “So, what other languages do you speak?”
“Italian, a little German. We traveled a lot as kids. Mom wanted us to learn the cultures and languages of the places we traveled. She believed understanding a place meant understanding its people. It all stopped when she died, though.”
“The only language I speak is superhero.” I huff out a half laugh, a bit embarrassed. I’ve been everywhere—Paris, Tokyo, Rome—but I never really belonged. Never immersed myself in another culture.
Her lips curve. “Well, that’s globally recognized. You may not speak another language fluently, but your language touches millions of people, Sutton. No matter the country, your movies filter into lives, both young and old.”
I swallow past a sudden lump in my throat.
“Never underestimate your abilities.”
My chest pulses. Even after everything I’ve put her through, she empowers me.
“I’ve never really thought about it like that.”
I turn her words over in my mind, letting them settle. I’ve jumped from movie set to movie set, doing what Bobby told me, attending interviews, taking meetings, shaking hands, signing contracts. Living in a home Bobby picked. Driven in a car Bobby organized. Eating meals my trainer approved. Wearing the clothes my stylist chose.
“Bobby handled everything.” I exhale, my fingers flexing. “I just did what was asked, never thinking about my impact, never thinking about… me.”
She watches me quietly. “Your life moved pretty fast.”
“Until I came to Whispers.” I meet her gaze, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing into me.
“Until I finally put the brakes on.” Not just on my career, but on everything. For the first time, I realize how little control I’ve had over my own life. For the first time, I feel what it’s like to make my own choices and what it’s like to fight for them. And in the rush of running away, hiding, protecting, falling, something inside me clicked into place.
I’ve spent my entire life playing roles, fitting into a mold someone else designed and moving at a schedule someone else managed.
But now? Now, I know what was missing.
The missing piece was me.
38
Charlotte
I walk into the bedroom after checking on Preston, who’s now out like a light, tucked into bed in the room next door.
