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Track 1
Daughter of a Legend
Laurel
Cars crowd our large, semicircle of a driveway. Dad’s having a party. Again. Vincent “The Fox” Halifax has manyfriends.
“Laurel!” Mom’s voice floats into the room from somewhere down the hallway. “Join us for a few minutes?”
I step away from the window and tiptoe into the walk-in closet. I could go, but just thinking about it sets my teeth on edge. Nobody will find me here, though, in Uncle Soren’s room. Not even Uncle Soren. He died ten years ago from a rare blood disorder the name of which I can never say right. He and his son, my cousin Hal, lived with our family for as long as I can recall. Uncle Soren was always sick, and we took care of him after my aunt died. His room is dusted and vacuumed regularly, but everything remains as it was ten years ago. Nobody comes here, not even Hal, and that’s why this room is a perfect hiding place. I don’t think my uncle would mind that I’m trespassing. He always loved company.
I close the door, drop onto a pile of blankets in the corner, pull out my phone, and open a reading app. I shouldn’t have to hide. Outside these walls is the world with normal people who walk the streets, fall in love, argue, make up, cry, laugh, and accomplish things, all without looking over their shoulders for a camera lens— Oh! A new book by one of my favorite authors. It’ll definitely help me kill time until the party is over.
The book is everything I hoped it would be, but after a couple hours in tight quarters, I start feeling caged in. The muffled sounds of the party have been lingering in the background, distracting and annoying. Turning off my phone, I plunge into the darkness. I don’t want to go downstairs. At the same time, I don’t want to stay in the dark closet any longer either.
Sometimes I can’t stand this wretched place. I should move out.
A sarcastic laugh bubbles out of my throat. Move out? As if that could ever happen. The world out there… Memories of running out of my last press conference fill my mind, bringing a familiar panic. My pulse races. I struggle to breathe— I nip off the panic and force myself to breathe slowly.
I can’t move out. I’ll have no peace as long as Dad is a musician. We are recognized everywhere, and everybody wants to know everything—what we’re doing, where we eat. Everything. It’s suffocating. I used to go on tours with my parents, but I’ve been avoiding most places for the last four years, hoping people would forget my face.
I stretch out on the carpet, still in darkness. I don’t enjoy my isolation, but I don’t have any other choice.
All the times people ambushed me in public clamor in my head.
It’s Laurel Halifax! The Little Fox. The Fox’s daughter.
Can we please take a photo?
When are you going to release that album you were working on?
You must be so happy to have a dad like The Fox. He’s incredible.
You’re so lucky.
I wish I was you.
Nobody knows what that wish means. They don’t know what my life has become. I’m twenty-one, and every time I want to leave the house, I have to decide whether I bring a bodyguard or not. Going to a beach? Forget about it. Bookstore? On a good day, only a couple people recognize me. One of them might even move on without staring. The worst part is that I’m not even The Celebrity. Dad is. I’m a prisoner of his fame. And that album we started when I was seventeen? If I never hear about it again, it will be too soon.
The closet door flies open, its edge grazing my foot. I bolt into a sitting position and shield my eyes from the harsh light that floods the small space.
“Found you,” says Hal. “Is this where you’ve been hiding all this time?”
He towers above me, Viking blood pronounced in his wide shoulders. None of the ridiculous Halifax freckles or unruly, orange hair for him. He’s got his dad’s Norwegian genes—blond, wavy hair, flawless skin, built to conquer villages with one swing of an axe.
“I’m sorry.” I scramble to my feet. “I won’t come here again.”
Hal leans on the doorjamb and scans the closet, his expression somber. “Why would you hide in this tomb?”
He’s right. The closet is small and full of difficult memories, but… “This is the most peaceful place in the house.”
“Uncle Vin wants you downstairs. He hopes you’ll play with him.”
“He always does.” That’s exactly why I hide when we have visitors.
I can play guitar, and rather well, so everyone naturally believes I’ll follow in my father’s footsteps. The guitar legend and his daughter. We could be unstoppable. We would dominate the world. Now and then my dad asks me whether I feel like giving a music career another try, but I keep saying I’m not ready. What I hope he’ll hear is that I will never come back. I will never surrender whatever little freedom I have to show business. I want to break free, not to lose my meager crumbs of autonomy. The chaos and the hype that erupted when we announced we’d release something together— I shudder.
“Come on.” Hal stands aside, giving me space to exit the closet. “It’s good company today. No suck-ups.”
