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minutes she’d spent standing a few very short feet from the lead singer of Valley of Shadow.
    The mere thought of the man made Sophie’s insides heat up almost painfully.
    But the subject of moving had brought Sophie’s secret rushing back to her, and now she simply had to get it out. There was no reason for her to stay in Pennsylvania, especially now that Jules wouldn’t be there any longer. There was also no reason why Jules wouldn’t be happy for her.
    “I got a scholarship to Berkeley,” she said quietly, feeling a rush of elation even as she admitted it. It was the first time she’d said it out loud. It was like she’d been afraid she would jinx it.
    Over the years, Sophie had acted in countless plays and musicals. It was one of the ways she had made money while working various minimum-wage jobs. The roles didn’t pay much, but they reminded her of her mother, who had been a big fan of Shakespeare and of the arts in general.
    On Halloween, Sophie almost always managed to dress up in three different costumes for the chance to act out the roles of three different people or monsters. She liked losing herself in a role and escaping from her own life for a while. But what she
really
loved to do was dance. She’d wanted to be a dancer since she was a child and she and her mother had spontaneously begun dancing in the aisle at the grocery store. Sophie’s mother had loved music, and it was one of the genetic, bone-deep, instinctive things that she and her mother had in common. There was something about slipping into the lyrics and letting them take over that had always appealed to both of them. It was like acting without having to speak.
    When Sophie lost her parents, music carried her past the pain and fear and loneliness. At the orphanage, she wore her earbuds day and night. And when she was alone? She
moved
to that music. And she was
good
at it. Not that anyone but her closest friends knew this.
    As it was for so many little girls, getting a degree in dance and somehow earning a living through it was a dream. For Sophie, it was an especially impossible one. She was an orphan, after all. Money was tight or nonexistent, and she lacked the essential support of proud, advocating parents.
    So she shelved the idea of dancing professionally. Then, a year ago, she’d realized that she was twenty-five and wasn’t getting any younger. Most of her friends were pursuing advanced studies. Like Juliette. For a dancer, she was
especially
old. Dancers became prima ballerinas at age fifteen. At twenty? They were nearly finished with their careers.
    At this point Sophie was no longer interested in being in the spotlight onstage. She would always love dance, but her priorities had changed with age. Now she was far more interested in learning whatever it took to teach dance to others. In particular, she wanted to teach children.
    Regardless, time wasn’t waiting for her.
    And with that realization came the nerve Sophie needed to finally give it a try. She took the necessary exams and filled out applications. Berkeley was a shot in the dark; she only applied there because if she could get in, then she could rest easy knowing that the money her parents had left her was going toward an education at one of the best schools in the world.
    She’d never expected to actually get in, much less to receive a scholarship. But being an orphan had helped on that front, since considerable financial assistance was often available for such prospective students. And now here she was. If she wanted to, she could begin classes in the fall.
    San Francisco was outrageously expensive, but luckily for Sophie, her parents had left her a bit of money when they’d died. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to help pay for a place to live. Sophie had been granted access to the account when she’d turned twenty-one, but she’d never touched it. To her, it felt like all that was left of her parents’ legacy. She didn’t want to squander it on something