Page 17 of Knotted

When our band had a competition in New Orleans, it was Halmeoni who gave us haunting details about the house Anne Rice owned, including the so-called “blood-red room” where she was rumored to write her most chilling scenes—though whether that was true or just folklore, no one could say.

Needless to say, I’ve learned not to trivialize my grandmother’s vast knowledge of Ms. Rice and her coven of the undead.

Eomma refills my glass, her eyes soft but serious. “It should be something that fits, something that carries a piece of who you are.”

I swallow back the lump in my throat, nerves dancing in my stomach. “I’ve decided on a first name. Sydney, with a Y.”

“Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Mom asks, her brow furrowing.

“You sound like my editor.”

Dad grins, giving me a knowing look. “After Sidney Sheldon? Or your old teddy bear?” He nods, approval clear in his eyes. “Either way, I like it. It’s playful but mature. And it could easily be a girl or a guy, which is the point, right? No one knows who you are.” He makes an ominous noise, wiggling his fingers in the air like he’s casting a spell.

Halmeoni taps a finger on the table, the sound sharp enough to cut through the noise in my head. “What did I tell you just moments ago, Juliana?”

I pause, her words pulling me back down to earth. “That Grandpa would be proud of me… and…”

“You are a Sun,” they all say together, the words ringing out like a chorus.

And they’re right. It’s my grandfather’s name. It’s our legacy.

“Sun,” I repeat, letting the word roll around in my mouth, testing the weight of it. It’s like something inside me clicks, a key turning in a lock I didn’t even know was there. “Yes. I’m a Sun.” My eyes widen as it hits me, and before I can stop myself, I’m throwing both arms around her in a fierce hug. “I love it.”

That night, after the kitchen is cleaned and the house has settled into its familiar quiet, and rather than swim upstream back to the city, I find myself back in my old bedroom, sinkinginto the comfort of my childhood bed. My cell casts a soft glow in the darkness.

With my social media primed and ready, Taylor’s been bombarding me with words of affirmation all day. Little nuggets of wisdom popping up on my phone like fortune cookies from a best friend who knows exactly when to push.

Poignant thoughts likeCarpe DiemandThe only way out is through. Or my personal favorite:I swear by all that’s Chanel, one post won’t kill you.

But the one that had me snort-laughing in the middle of dinner?Go big or go home, paired with a photo of a ridiculously big, brawny baker holding the biggest baguette I’ve ever seen. And, of course, he’s holding it right at his crotch.

Trust Taylor to nail that twisted blend of motivational imagery and uncensored, full-throttle porn.

My breath hitches, a swarm of butterflies tickling through my insides, and my fingers itch to dive into my account. But, what to write?

With a deep breath, I open Instagram, shove aside the anxiety that’s always waiting to devour me, and step into the creation of something that’s entirely mine.

My future.

This pen name isn’t just a name—it’s a declaration. A way to carry my heritage, my family, into this new chapter of my life, and finally leave the baggage behind.

The words begin to spill out, each one peeling away another layer of fear and the need to be perfect. I’m just being me.

I pick a photo from dinner, the vibrant spread of dishes that Halmeoni and Eomma crafted with so much love, and pair itwith a shot of the Adirondacks at sunset—enduring, like the mountains themselves.

Then, I push my avatar into the spotlight. The image Taylor and I decided on. Me with thick, dark Audrey HepburnBreakfast at Tiffany’sglasses, my hair down, my lips red, and a pen poised at my lips, the very picture of deep thought.

“Truth might be a wallflower, but every story deserves its moment to shine on the dance floor. And the best stories? They’re the ones that steal the spotlight when you least expect it and leave a mark on your heart.”

#NewJourneys #WritingWithHeart

I sign off@SydneySunand it feels so good, I hit post, and just like that, I’m out there.

No turning back.

CHAPTER 6

Jules

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