dove; after that, I lost myself in the movement of my arms and the breeze of white wings as I produced dove after dove, until a dozen perched upstage. When the song ended, the applause broke over me like sunshine, like a cold ocean wave. I was trembling, my limbs tingled, and my vision twitched at the edges like the picture on an old TV. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt this way—and yet the sensations were familiar, as if they’d been hiding just beneath my skin, waiting to erupt and take me over. I wanted to feel this way forever.
The lights dimmed, and distorted guitars grated against a throbbing beat as Dad walked onstage. He approached the trunk I had appeared in at the top of the show and spun it, showing all four sides to the audience. Again he produced the large brass key, this time using it to lock the trunk.
I invited Work Boots back onstage to inspect the setup. When he was satisfied, he returned to his seat.
Dad climbed onto the lid holding the top edge of a white Kabuki cloth. He smiled, then raised the cloth over his head, hiding himself from view.
A moment later, the curtain dropped. The music stopped. Dad was gone.
Silence fell. And then a pounding came from inside the trunk, so hard it rattled the padlock; Dad had disappeared, then reappeared inside the box.
I spun the trunk to show it was still closed on all sides. Cheers and applause followed—but this was only the setup. Now I climbed onto the lid and lifted the curtain over my own head. I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes.
When the curtain dropped a second later, I had vanished, and it was Dad standing on top of the trunk. The crowd in the barroom lost their minds as he stepped down, brandishing the big brass key. He released the padlock and flung open the lid. I emerged once more, arms raised in a triumphant V.
In that moment, I felt something shift inside me. Was it just the manic side of the bipolar coin taking its turn to face up? It made sense; cycles had been triggered by far less than applause and lights and the smell of bodies and beer. But what if it was something else? Something deeper? It was impossible to separate sense from sickness—and why bother when it felt so good?
My heart beat at a glorious gallop, like a filly’s hooves pounding down the dandelions in an open field. For a fraction of a second, it seemed to me that everyone in the bar was synchronized. Like migratory birds banking in unison. Like wildflowers turning toward the sun.
I had done that.
I glanced at Dad, already feeling the smile that stretched my lips until I felt they might crack open.
The look on his face. Surprise. Pride.
We held hands and bowed, and a hundred people sounded like a thousand. I only made it halfway to the door before someone stopped me for a selfie. Then an autograph. Then a circle of people formed around me.
Dad insisted on loading out the small stuff by himself while I signed half a dozen cocktail napkins, a cell phone case, and some trucker’s biceps. There were wolf whistles, too, and the drunk guy in the Bears cap tried to grab my ass, but his friends pulled him away. I was immune, invincible, thrumming like a tuning fork.
And then I spotted Liam.
He was leaning against a high table, smiling that smile of his and shaking his head. As I crossed the room toward him, I thought my heart might crack through my sternum.
“Ms. Dante,” he said, tipping the brim of an imaginary hat. My knees gave a warning twinge, and I casually reached out to steady myself on a bar stool. Probably it was the heat of the lights and the rush of the performance. Probably.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Our call was weird. I didn’t want to leave things like that. So I Googled and saw that the Uncanny Dante was playing at Sunny’s.” His smiled faded a little. “I almost didn’t come. I figured if you wanted me here, you’d have texted.”
I bit my lip, trying to form a response.
“But then I figured what the hell, and I came anyway.”
I gripped the back of the bar stool a little tighter. “I’m glad you did.”
Just then, the jackass in the Bears cap staggered toward me yet again. Liam took a