Song for this chapter: Taylor Swift - I Know Places (Taylor's Version) on the multimedia.

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Nat

I stepped into the nursing home, my heart heavy with the kind of weight I couldn't shake off no matter how hard I tried. The air smelled of antiseptic and flowers that had long lost their bloom, and a distant piano melody filled the silence, muffled by the sounds of nurses shuffling from room to room. I felt my chest tighten as I approached my father's door.

There he was, sitting by the window, staring out at a garden he likely didn't remember anymore. His hair was thinner, whiter, and his hands, which once taught me how to hold a camera, trembled slightly as he held a worn-out magazine in his lap. I stood at the doorway, unsure of how to step into a room where the man who had raised me no longer knew who I was.

"Hi, Dad," I said, forcing a smile as I walked in.

He looked up, his eyes scanning my face, but there was no recognition. No warmth. No flicker of familiarity. He squinted, then gave a polite nod, like I was a stranger visiting out of kindness.

"Hello there," he replied, his voice soft, fragile, as though it carried the weight of too many lost memories.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to hold it together. I sat down across from him, my heart pounding in my chest, waiting for any sign—any small flicker that he knew me. But it never came.

"How have you been?" I asked, my voice betraying me with the faintest tremor.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Just passing the time," he said, glancing back at the window. His voice was distant, like he was somewhere else entirely. "But, I've got something to be proud of."

I tensed up. This was the part that always broke me, over and over again, no matter how many times I heard it.

"My daughter," he said, with the faintest trace of pride in his voice. "She's... she's this big Hollywood actress now. Can you believe it? Always knew she'd make something of herself."

My heart shattered into a million pieces. He didn't know. He didn't realize that the daughter he was talking about—the one he was so proud of—was sitting right in front of him. I forced a smile, trying to hide the tears that were welling up in my eyes.

"Is that so?" I asked softly, my voice barely holding steady. "She must be really amazing."

"Oh, she is," he continued, his eyes lighting up as he spoke about me like I wasn't there. "You should see her in the movies. She's... she's so talented, and beautiful, too. Takes after her mother."

A sob caught in my throat, and I had to look away. I didn't want him to see how much his words hurt. I didn't want him to see how badly I wished he could just say my name, look at me with those same proud eyes he had when I was little, when he still knew who I was.

"I'd give anything to see her again, you know?" he went on, a wistful tone creeping into his voice. "But she's busy, always traveling for work. Hollywood, right? Always on the go."

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. I bit my lip, trying to hold it all in. This wasn't fair. None of it was fair. How could he remember every detail about my career, about my success, but not remember me? Not here, not now, not when I needed him to.

I leaned in, my voice trembling as I asked, "Do you... do you remember her name?"

He paused, a frown crossing his face as he tried to think. "Natalie," he finally said, with a smile of triumph. "Natalie Taylor. She's my little girl."

I closed my eyes, the pain too much to bear. "That's right, Dad," I whispered. "That's right."

But he didn't know. He didn't know it was me sitting there. His little girl, the one he was so proud of, was a stranger to him now. And that thought—that horrible, devastating reality—crushed me.

We sat in silence for a while after that, his words echoing in my mind. I watched him as he turned back to the window, content in his memories of me that were now so far removed from the present. I wiped my tears and forced a smile, trying to make the most of the time I had with him, even if he didn't know me.

I reached out, gently placing my hand over his. "I'm sure she's really proud of you too, Dad."

He smiled, still lost in his thoughts, and for a brief moment, I let myself pretend that everything was the way it used to be. That he knew me. That he was still my dad.

But the truth was, he didn't. And the person he remembered—the daughter he was so proud of—felt like someone else entirely. And that... that was the hardest part.

After I left the nursing home, my heart still heavy from seeing Dad in that state, I couldn't shake off the feeling that it was time. Time to find Aira. I had lost touch with her years ago, too wrapped up in my career and my own life to notice how far we'd drifted apart. But now, after everything, I realized that I couldn't keep running away from the past. I had to do something. She was my sister, after all.

I didn't even know where to start. We hadn't spoken in years, and I didn't know where she lived anymore, didn't even know if she stayed in the same city. But I had to try. I had to do my best.

I went back to Elizabeth's house, grabbed my phone, and scrolled through the contacts list, realizing that her number had been long deleted. It felt like a punch to the gut. How had I let it get this bad? But I couldn't dwell on that now. I had to find her.

I thought of the places she used to love—her favorite café downtown, the old bookstore where we used to spend hours browsing through shelves, and the park where we would talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. I started with the café.

The bell chimed as I stepped inside, the warm aroma of coffee filling the air. It looked the same as it always did—small, cozy, with mismatched chairs and tables tucked in every corner. But Aira wasn't there. I spoke to the barista, hoping they might remember her, but no one had seen her in years.

Next was the bookstore. I walked through the aisles, running my fingers along the spines of books, remembering how we used to get lost in here. But once again, no one had seen her. No trace of her.

Days passed, and I found myself wandering the streets, going to every place I thought she might be. Every café, every park, every corner of the city that once held pieces of her. But it was as if she had vanished. I asked people who might have known her, old friends, acquaintances, but no one had heard from her in years. Each day ended the same—with me coming up empty, frustration and sadness building up inside me.

I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't find her. And with every passing day, I felt the weight of the years that had separated us pressing down on me. How long had it been since I'd really tried to be there for her? Since I'd cared enough to even ask how she was?

I sat on a bench in the park one afternoon, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass. My phone buzzed, but it wasn't her. Just another reminder of how disconnected my life had become from the people who once mattered most.

After days of searching, I went back to Elizabeth's house, exhausted and weighed down with disappointment. My heart ached. I thought I would find some sort of clue, a trace, or even just a whisper about where Aira might be. But I found nothing. It felt as if she had disappeared completely.

I had no idea where Aira was, but I wasn't going to give up. She was my sister, and I had to find her. I had to.

***

As soon as I stepped into L.A., the noise hit me like a tidal wave. Flashing cameras, people shouting my name, questions bombarding me from every angle.

"Nat, what's your response to Linc's announcement?"

"Is the wedding really happening next week?"

"What do you think about Sign and Ivy?"

I kept my head down, sunglasses on, trying to push through the sea of flashing lights and voices that wouldn't stop. My heart raced, panic tightening in my chest. I'd dealt with media before, but this... this was different. This was chaos.

"Please, no comments," I muttered, trying to keep my cool, but my voice was swallowed by the crowd. My heart pounded, and my breaths came short and shallow. I could feel my control slipping with each camera flash. Just keep walking. I tried to stay focused, but my legs felt heavy.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the madness.

"Nat, over here!"

Travis. Relief washed over me. He pushed through the crowd, grabbing my arm firmly and guiding me to his car parked nearby. As soon as we were inside, the noise became a distant buzz, but the weight of everything still lingered, heavy and suffocating.

I slumped into the passenger seat, shaking from the encounter. The flashes, the voices—all of it still felt too close, even behind the car's tinted windows. I barely managed to get the seatbelt on, my hands trembling slightly.

"You okay?" Travis asked, glancing over at me. His casual tone didn't match the concern etched on his face.

"I don't know," I replied, my voice sounding far away. I sat up, trying to regain composure, but it felt impossible. The whirlwind of everything, Linc's announcement, the mess we were all in—it kept closing in on me.

I turned toward him, trying to distract myself. "Were you following me, Trav?" I asked, my voice weak but attempting humor.

He chuckled, though it lacked its usual warmth. "Nah, I'm not that creepy. I was actually waiting for Linc. He was supposed to arrive today, but..." he trailed off, checking his phone. "Just got a text. Apparently, he's staying in Manhattan for the wedding."

My heart sank. The reality of it hit me all over again. "So he's actually serious," I muttered in disbelief. "He's really going through with it."

"Looks like it," Travis replied, his tone neutral, but I could feel the tension between us.

I scoffed. "This is ridiculous. He's marrying Sign—after all of this? What, to fix things? Like that's going to make everything right?"

Travis kept his eyes on the road, but I could see the tightness in his grip on the steering wheel. I knew he didn't have the answers either. None of us did.

"Honestly," I continued, feeling the frustration build, "what does he even think he's doing? He's risking everything—his career, his life. For what?"

"For Ivy," Travis said quietly. "It's all for her. You know that."

I did. Of course, I did. Ivy was everything to Linc now. But what baffled me was how far Linc was willing to go. His calm, cold announcement, his sudden decision to marry Sign—it all felt wrong, like there was something we were missing.

But Travis just stared ahead, his expression unreadable. "You ever wonder why Linc's so determined?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I frowned. "Because he wants to be there for Ivy," I said, stating the obvious. "He's always been about doing the right thing."

Travis let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, but there's more to it, Nat."

I waited, sensing there was something deeper going on, something I hadn't been told. Travis hesitated, his grip tightening on the wheel as if he was wrestling with whether to say it. Finally, he sighed.

"Linc's father," Travis started, "he's... Let's just say it's not a story Linc wants anyone to know."

I blinked, taken aback. "His father?" I repeated. I hadn't even realized that part of Linc's life was a mystery—he never talked about his family. Not once. But now that Travis mentioned it, it clicked. It made sense why Linc was so fiercely protective of Ivy, why this whole situation was so personal for him.

Travis shook his head. "No one's allowed to talk about him. Linc's kept that buried for years. But what I can tell you is this—Linc's doing everything he can to not be like him. He won't admit it, but that's what's driving him now."

I stared at him, the weight of what he was saying hitting me slowly. I'd known Linc for a while, but I never thought there was something this deep, this personal, pushing him to make all these decisions.

"You mean, that's why he's..." I struggled to find the right words, still wrapping my head around it.

"That's why he can't lose Ivy. He's terrified of it," Travis said quietly, almost to himself.

I didn't know what to say. It all felt like too much, too fast. Everything was spiraling—Linc's sudden marriage, his desperation to be a part of Ivy's life, and now this secret about his father that had been hidden all along.

I leaned back in the seat, overwhelmed. "And what about us, Trav? We kept Ivy from him. Do you think he'll ever forgive us?"

Travis didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched, his gaze distant. "I don't know, Nat. I really don't."

We sat in silence, the weight of it all pressing down on us. There was no easy way out of this mess, and the more we unraveled, the worse it seemed to get.

"I just hope we haven't made things worse," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was talking to Travis or myself.

Travis glanced at me, his eyes heavy with guilt. "We've done what we could, Nat. But now... it's out of our hands."

We both knew the truth, though. Things weren't just out of our hands—they were spiraling out of control. And there was no telling what Linc would do next.

After our heavy conversation, the car fell into an awkward silence. I tried to focus on the passing scenery outside the window, but my thoughts kept pulling me back to Linc, to Ivy, to everything that had blown up in the past week.

My phone buzzed in my lap, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glanced down, seeing a text from Grachel.

Sorry I couldn't pick you up at the airport, Nat. Had a business emergency. You okay? Heard Trav picked you up—lucky break.

A sigh escaped my lips. Grachel was always busy with something, but she never missed a beat. I typed a quick reply, letting her know I was fine, but deep down, I felt anything but. Grachel had no idea how much had happened in just a week.

"Everything okay?" Travis asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.

"Yeah, just Grachel. She couldn't make it to the airport," I replied, sliding my phone back into my pocket. "She had some business to attend to."

Trav gave a small nod, eyes still on the road. "Lucky you ran into me then," he said with a chuckle, but I could tell he was still preoccupied with everything we'd talked about.

I glanced over at him. "Yeah... very lucky," I said, though the irony wasn't lost on me. In a way, I didn't feel lucky at all. I felt... lost.

Travis broke the silence again, his tone shifting slightly. "Where have you been, Nat? You've missed a lot of work. Linc too. Both your managements are in chaos right now—Linc with his sudden press con and you disappearing for a week."

I winced, guilt settling in. He wasn't wrong. I had disappeared. After seeing my father at the nursing home, after everything that had happened with Juls and Sign, I just... ran. Maybe it wasn't the best way to deal with things, but at the time, I needed space.

"I needed to get away," I admitted, rubbing my temple as the weight of everything bore down on me again. "But now it feels like everything's fallen apart while I was gone."

Travis glanced at me, concern softening his features. "Look, I get it. This past week has been a mess for everyone. But disappearing didn't make it easier for anyone either, Nat."

"I know," I said quietly, staring at my hands. "I thought I could handle it all... but I can't."

For a moment, the tension sat thick in the air between us. I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face, maybe searching for something he could say to make this better. But there was no quick fix for the mess we were in.

After what felt like an eternity, I sighed and turned to him. "Do you have time for coffee? I could really use a friend right now."

Travis blinked, surprised at my request. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, probably thinking of the chaos waiting for him back at Linc's team, but he smiled slightly. "Yeah... I think we can make time for that."

Relief flooded through me. Maybe I didn't have all the answers yet, but right now, I needed someone to talk to, and for better or worse, Travis was the closest thing to a friend I had in this mess.

"Thanks, Trav," I murmured as he turned the car toward the nearest café.

For once, I didn't feel like I had to deal with everything on my own.