It’s like I’m moving on auto-pilot, like I’m not in control of my own body. That must be why tears finally slip free the second I’m on stage and my eyes fall on the audience. That must be why, because I would never let this happen. I would never cry on stage. I would never cry in front of Fitz. In front of my mother. Oh, God, my mother. My mother. Why’d I have to remember her right now? I’ve remembered her and now the tears are coming even harder as I sit down on the piano bench. They keep coming down, and I can’t seem to stop them. I’m not even sure I’m trying to get them to stop. I’m not
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