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sitting with Mireille at the far end of the hall basement. Maybe Nève would go with her to get Tante Perle, like her mom had suggested. Then Meg could explain the whole Marguerite thing to her like she should have done in the first place. She threaded her way through the noisy crowd and joined her friends.
    â€œHi guys.” She dumped her backpack beside them.
    â€œHey, Meg. You ready for the big night?” Mireille asked, not waiting for a reply. “Oh my gosh, I’m nervous like you wouldn’t believe . I told my mom if I didn’t win tonight, she should demand her money back from all those music lessons.” She laughed, then eyed Meg. “No offence.”
    â€œOf course not.” Meg forced a smile and tried to meet Nève’s gaze, but her cousin kept her head down, studying her lyrics.
    Was Nève still mad at her about what she said to Mireille earlier? Once she explained everything, Meg was sure Nève would understand.
    But not with Mireille there. Somehow Meg would have to get her cousin alone.
    â€œOh, Nève, come find me after your song. I should have time to do your hair, after all.”
    â€œDoes that mean you’re not going to get Tante Perle?” Nève looked up. Her face contorted in an expression Meg had trouble reading.
    â€œNo, I just…” Meg began.
    Just then, Gertie motioned for the performers to assemble for the opening act.
    â€œEee! That’s us!” Mireille grabbed Nève’s arm.
    â€œWe need to talk,” Nève whispered. Were those tears Meg saw? Was Nève really that upset?
    â€œCome on, Nève!” Mireille pulled her towards the group.
    Meg stood alone, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She bowed her head and rushed to the girl’s washroom, her cheeks burning.
    So maybe she shouldn’t have made fun of Tante Perle along with Mireille. But was that enough of a reason for Nève to act so hurt? Meg chucked her backpack on the counter and turned on the tap. She splashed a palm full of cool water on her face and stared in the mirror.
    Wineberry Red. She rubbed at the stubborn stain with wet fingers, and then yanked at the last piece of paper towel from the holder.
    She caught the image of Véronique stepping out of a washroom stall in the reflection of the mirror.
    â€œHi, Meg. Where’s Nève?” Of course Véronique would wonder. She and Nève were usually inseparable. Still, the question annoyed Meg. She swung around to face her.
    â€œWith Mireille.” She spat out the words.
    Véronique drew her chin to her chest in surprise.
    Meg turned back to the mirror and worked the last of the lipstick off her cheek. “Sorry, it’s just…never mind. Sorry, Véronique.”
    Véronique joined her at a nearby sink.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Véronique said as she lathered the pink soap in her hands. “Everyone’s really stressed out tonight. Especially Nève.”
    Meg locked eyes with Véronique in the mirror. Véronique squeaked the tap closed.
    â€œOh, didn’t you hear? They got the call at suppertime. Nève’s dad took a job in Fort McMurray. They leave right after lobster season.” Véronique brushed past Meg to get a paper towel.
    â€œUh…oh sorry, I took the last one,” Meg said, dazed.
    â€œNo worries,” Véronique said. She shook her hands to dry them, sending a sprinkle of water droplets onto the floor and counter. “Gotta go. I’m in the opening ceremony.” With that, Véronique yanked the door open and disappeared.
    Meg’s knees wobbled. She leaned against the water-splattered counter. Her best friend was moving to Alberta? How could this be happening?
    No wonder Nève was upset! Meg rushed out of the washroom into the chaos of performers. She had to talk to Nève before the concert started.
    â€œOpening ceremony people backstage, please!” Gertie tapped her clipboard