Venture Forward by Kristen Luciani

get involved with my clients, do you understand?”
    He pulled away, a pained expression shadowing his face. “I’m sorry, I just—”
    “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Divya schedule a release meeting. We need to go through some final details of the contract with you and your attorney.”
    “Um, yeah, sure. Thanks again.”
    She turned away as two excited teenaged girls spotted him and ran over, gushing and professing their undying devotion. Ah, to be twenty-two again, and an up and coming rock star to boot. Life must be pretty damn good.
    A heavy weight settled in her chest as she slid into the rental car. It had been long enough, and she couldn’t avoid her mother forever. Twenty agonizing minutes later, Avery stood staring at the tan stucco house she’d left behind. Even though it was eighty-five degrees in the blistering sun, a chill raced down her back. Memories of those final days were so haunting, but it was time to put the past behind her for good.
    Silence greeted her as she gingerly stepped into the tiled foyer. Airy brightness filled the rooms, but her gloom cast a shadow over all. The overwhelming urge to run was strong, but it wouldn’t give her the closure she desperately needed. At least, it hadn’t worked so far.
    Muffled sounds drifted into the hallway.
    Of course she was in Tara’s room. It was another slap in the face. Typical of Jane to pull out all the stops, knowing Avery was coming and that she’d find her wallowing in grief and despair, exactly as she’d left her.
    Avery’s heels clicked on the terracotta tiles as she walked down the hall. “Enjoy The Silence” by Depeche Mode filtered into the still air. Tears pooled in her eyes, as they always did when she heard the song, Tara’s favorite. The last treatments had been so debilitating, making her so ill she could barely speak. Only that haunting melody could ease the mental anguish of knowing the end was near. At the very least, she had been able to find peace in the silence.
    Twist the knife a little more, why don’t you, Mom?
    She pushed open the door to find her mother sitting in a rocking chair by the window, clutching a picture frame.
    “Mom?”
    Her mother’s vacant eyes flickered toward her and then back to the window. The instantaneous rejection was like a swift kick to the gut. She didn’t care about Avery at all. Two people had cared. One of them was dead; the other had walked away without so much as a backward glance.
    “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
    “I left a message on the machine. Didn’t you hear it?”
    Jane continued to stare out the window.
    Avery thought twice about sitting on Tara’s bed, thinking it would only upset her mother more. She didn’t need to make things worse. “Are you hungry? Do you want to go somewhere for lunch?”
    “I listen to this song all the time. It makes me feel closer to her.”
    “I’m sure.”
    The vacant stare finally focused on her. “How do you remember your sister?”
    Avery recoiled, startled by the question. She missed Tara every day, felt guilty every day. “I think about her all the time… her singing, her silly made-up jokes, the way she would—”
    “I’m sure you couldn’t wait to get out of here and forget everything. It must be so much easier to remember when you aren’t constantly faced with the loss.”
    Avery swallowed hard, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “You’re not the only one who’s hurting. I adored her. Please don’t make me feel bad about moving on. I’m doing the best I can.”
    Jane placed the photograph on the nightstand. It was a picture of her and Tara when they were younger, before she’d gotten sick. Things had been so much simpler then. They were a family. They were happy and whole.
    “You did what you should have done. It was your duty as part of this family to be here for your sister.” Jane pushed past her, sniffling. “I certainly hope you don’t expect me to congratulate you for doing the