**Backstage – Stevie's Birthday Show, Phoenix**
The crowd was already buzzing beyond the curtains, their energy echoing through the venue like a distant pulse. Backstage was calmer—cooler, quieter, except for the usual clatter of crew moving equipment and the occasional laughter from the dressing rooms.
Lori stood by the catering table, finally grabbing a plate of something warm. She hadn't eaten lunch—nerves, traffic, travel—life. Now, starving, she was piling her plate high with something vaguely resembling dinner, eyes half-focused on the table.
"Lori?"
The voice made her freeze.
Slowly, she turned, her gaze locking with a familiar face—one she hadn't seen in years, though she'd know it anywhere. Christopher Nicks. Her ex-husband. Jessica's father.
Her breath caught. "Chris? What are you doing here?"
He gave a smile that felt forced. "It *is* my sister's birthday, after all. I came to surprise her."
Lori exhaled a sharp sigh and muttered, "Of course you did." Her voice dropped further, barely above a breath. "Because you knew I'd be here."
Chris stepped closer. "I saw the photo Jess posted... you two after treatment. I recognized that gray hair anywhere." He gave a smile, trying to keep it light. "She really stepped up. Helping you the way she did. You should be proud of her."
Lori didn't answer. They had divorced on decent terms—for Jess's sake—but that was years ago. Polite exchanges at family moments. Nothing said she had to be polite now.
Then, like it was nothing, he stepped forward and opened his arms. "I'm glad to see you. Really. How've you been?"
As he went to hug her, Lori quickly set her plate down and pushed against his chest, her palms firm. "Don't," she rasped.
But Chris was taller, stronger—his body didn't give, and hers had lost so much strength through the ordeal of cancer.
She stumbled backward.
The back of her head struck the catering table with a *crack*. Sharp pain bloomed at the base of her skull. Lori winced, her hand flying to the back of her head. Her vision swam slightly, the food on the table now a blur.
Chris stepped forward, horrified. "Lori, I—are you okay? Let me help—"
"Don't touch me!" she snapped, her voice suddenly cracking with anger and pain. She smacked his outstretched hand away so hard he actually flinched, the sound sharp in the cramped space. "What is wrong with you? I said don't!" Her breathing was uneven now, anger shaking through her like it was the only thing holding her upright. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stand even though the room tilted beneath her, swaying slightly as she backed away from him. "Just—just stay away from me."
Down the corridor, she spotted Karen near the dressing rooms.
Karen took one look at her and immediately rushed forward, face changing from neutral focus to alarm in a heartbeat. "Lori? Hey—what happened?"
Lori's voice broke as soon as she tried to speak, tears already gathering in her eyes despite her effort to hold them back. "I need to see Stevie," she said, raw and unsteady.
Karen didn't ask questions. She just stepped in closer, one arm slipping firmly but gently around Lori's waist to steady her. "Okay. Okay, I've got you," she murmured, guiding her carefully down the corridor. Her tone softened, more protective now. "Just breathe for me, alright? Slow breaths. You're okay, you're okay."
