Rover.

"Good news for Rover Baxton fans today. His family and record label released a statement saying that he has woken up from his two-month coma."

"That's right, Chris. They say he's doing well and recovering."

"The singer, originally, was about to perform in Orlando when he was found unconscious in his dressing room. There was an outpouring of heartfelt messages for the star and his family, including a few from some notable names."

I hadn't heard a single one or read the tweets. I couldn't stand not seeing Noah's username every time I turned on my phone.

"Kelly Armory was one of the first people to post a message regarding Rover."

"Indeed she was, Marney. The two of them have been in somewhat of a feud for a while now, but could this mean things are on the mend?"

"The fans seem to think so. In fact, fanfictions, where they are apparently in a relationship, have soared in popularity this morning, to the point that they have become a trending hashtag."

"Kever forever, right?"

"Of course! You gotta give the fans what they want."

I don't know why I'm keeping this stupid TV on. My face, my whole life, seems plastered all over it. 

I finally push the power button just as the door to my room opens. Isla runs right for me, my mandolin case in her hands.

"Rover!" she shouts as she wraps her arms around my neck.

I hold her for a few seconds, but she's quick to move on to the next thing she has on her mind.

"I hope you don't mind that I snuck into your tour bus," she says. "I didn't think you could live without it."

She smiles as she hands me my darling instrument.

"Thanks," I reply happily.

"I've missed you," she goes on.

"Me too," I tell her.

I'm kind of at a loss for words. I don't know what we should talk about and I hope she just takes the reigns even though I can tell she's a little hesitant to talk about what happened.

"How's home?" I ask her.

"Fine," she shrugs, "but now you're okay, so everything will be so much better. Oh! And I can come on tour with you to make sure it all goes to plan."

"I don't think mom will let you," I say. "And what about Avery, isn't that her job?"

She leans closer to me to whisper, "Siri told me where to hide a body."

"Of course," I crack up into a grin.

She almost instantly shows me her puppy dog eyes.

"Come on," she begs, "please?"

"You'd hate it," I try to convince her.

"I'm not scared of smelly boys. I live with dad, remember?"

I don't think anything I say will stop her from coming up with reasons I should take her on tour with me.

"You'll probably be back in school by the time I'm back on tour," I tell her.

She crosses her arms annoyed that I won't give her the answer she wants. "You can homeschool me."

"Isla," I try to get her to realize, "I love you, but I'm busy during the day."

"Then I'll drop out," she says.

I can see her trying to hold back her frustration. Her cheeks are red and her brows are scrunched together.

"You can't do that," I say.

"You did," she retorts.

I sigh, "I got my GED."

"Then I'll get mine too," she answers.

I know there's only one thing I can do, "How about we make a deal?"

"I'm listening," she says.

"You can come on my last week of shows and see how you like it," I tell her.

Her eyes perk up, "Really? You'll let me come with you?"

"Yeah," I nod.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she says on repeat.

Before she gets too excited I say, "Now hand me my mandolin."

We spend hours together just messing around, writing tunes that will never be finished. I don't think I knew how much I missed her until now. She's my little sister, how could I leave her?

She's sound asleep on the edge of my bed as if she were hunched over a horse when my mom comes walking in.

"I wondered why she never came back to the room," she speaks quietly to me.

"We were having fun," I explain.

She looks over us with content, "She really missed you."

"I know," I say, "I missed her too."

"We're just so happy that you're okay," she tells me as she takes a seat beside me.

I know this might not be the right time to ask this, but there's something that's still bugging me.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, what is it honey?" she comes closer.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," she replies.

I take a breath in and let it out as I ask what I need to ask, "Do- Do you know who my biological parents are? I know this is kind of out of the blue, but something inside me just feels like it needs to know."

She straightens herself in her chair before answering, "I do."

"Who are they?" I go on.

"Are you sure you want to know?" she questions.

I nod, even though her words made me stop to think about what I was asking.

"Your aunt, Olivia," she says, "she's your biological mother."

"And my dad?"

"That, I don't know," she tells me. "Olivia was young when she got pregnant with you, she knew she wasn't at the point in her life where she would be able to take care of you. Obviously, your father and I weren't much older and had just gotten married, but we just knew you were meant to be with us."

I don't know if I should smile or cry or do both, yet I'm glad I finally know where I came from.

"It would explain the family resemblance," I try to lighten up the conversation.

"Yeah," she grins, "you always took after our side of the family. You're just like your grandfather, too."

"Really?"

"Completely," she relaxes back in her chair, "he used to love music just as much as you. He serenaded your grandmother until she finally agreed to marry him."

I want to tell her about Noah, but every time I bring her up in some way I don't think she actually believes that I really do love her.

Noah... Even just thinking about her leaves a hot stain on my lips.