POV: Nova

Nine months later.

I stood in the wings of my own venue—not a massive arena, but an intimate theater that held three hundred people. The studio Kai had built me included this performance space. Small. Personal. Mine.

My hand rested on my flat stomach, still adjusting to the absence. Three months ago, I'd given birth to a daughter. Elena Storm. Seven pounds, two ounces. Kai's eyes and my stubbornness.

She was backstage now with Kai, sleeping in her carrier. Too young to know her mother was about to perform for the first time since the Bluebird Cafe, fourteen months ago.

"Five minutes," the stage manager said.

I checked...