Center Stage
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 21
By lunch the following day, I felt like a zombie and was very glad I’d called off sick from school. Besides having a very hard time getting to sleep because of how worried I was for Hanna, the house alarm had gone off around three in the morning, just as I finally fell asleep.
Mrs. Phillips, who was naturally even more upset than I was, had been pacing all night and she’d managed to somehow set off the alarm. Because of how they’d set it up, we’d immediately gotten a call from Citadel’s monitors, thinking our house was being broken into.
I was lying on the couch, a little out of it, while she continued to pace. We’d called everyone whose phone number we had who knew Hanna and Kat a bunch of times, but no one could figure out what happened to her.
Mrs. Phillips went to get maybe her twentieth cup of coffee, I guess afraid to fall asleep and miss news about Hanna, slamming the cabinet door a little too hard.
“Sorry, Charlie,” she said as I winced, a little oversensitive in my sleep-deprived state.
“It’s okay. I’m worried, too.”
She brought her coffee to the couch, pushing my feet off, forcing me to sit up.
“I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault. Maybe if I had been firmer, if I had stopped this relationship before it got so far...”
“That wouldn’t have stopped her. She would have gone right on seeing him. Hanna’s always been stubborn. Once she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I’m her mother. I should have done more to protect her.”
“We’ll find her. She may have made bad choices in men, but she’s strong. She’ll be okay.”
“I hope so. I really hope so.”
I was about to say something else when my phone started buzzing in my pocket. It took me a second of fumbling to get it out, mostly because my coordination was shot. When I finally fished it out, I saw it was Isaiah.
“Tell me you found her,” I said as soon as I answered.
“Yes. We tracked her down.”
Relief washed over me, and I sagged back against the couch cushions.
“What? What did he say?” Mrs. Phillip said frantically.
Putting the phone on speaker, I said, “Yes. They found her.”
“Thank God,” she said, sagging a little too, the tension not going away completely from her shoulders, but definitely slacking. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
“She’s been committed to the psychiatric department of the local hospital. They have her on a fourteen-day involuntary hold.”
Mrs. Phillips and I looked at each other in shock. I’m not sure exactly what I expected him to say, but that was definitely not it. Why would she be committed? How?
“What? Why? How?” her mother echoed my thoughts from next to me. “Why wouldn’t they call me before they did something like that? Why wouldn’t the school notify me?”
“I’m not an expert on the subject, as this is very far out of my area of expertise, but I believe there are significant limits on what information a hospital can release in situations like this when the person put on the hold is an adult ... at least, not without her signing over some kind of power of attorney,” Isaiah said. “The same goes for the school notifying anyone, including her mother.”
“But who had her committed? Can the school just do that?” I asked.
“For involuntary holds? No, I don’t think so. Usually, it takes law enforcement to do something like that, generally in cases where the person is considered a potential source of harm to themselves or others.”
“So someone called the police and had her committed? Do we know who did it? Was it the school? This professor of hers?” Mrs. Phillips demanded.
“I don’t know. Again, there are significant limits on what a hospital or the school can release in situations like this when the person on the hold is an adult, which she is.”
“So how do we find out?”
“Maybe talk to the hospital. This is more of a thing done at the local law enforcement level, so I have never dealt with it in my career. But, I think Hanna can give you permission to get updates and for the hospital to release information, so someone would need to talk to her and get her to approve it or fill out whatever paperwork is needed.”
“I’m going to call the hospital, see if they’ll let me talk to her,” I said.
“You can’t, Charlie. You aren’t technically family. I don’t think they’ll even pass on a note from you.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I wish I was.”
“So how do we find out? How do we help her?” Mrs. Phillips asked.
“Well, you can try calling. They’re likely to at least let you talk to her. Then it depends on what you can get her to agree to, and how agitated she is. Beyond that, I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any promises. Like I said, this is pretty far outside my wheelhouse.”
“Is there any way you can find out who filed the report that had her committed?” I asked. “I’m hoping it was someone close to her who had her best interests in mind.”
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do. Like I said, this is pretty far outside my wheelhouse.”
“I understand. Thanks for everything you’ve done so far, Isaiah. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”
The call ended and I slumped back against the couch. Mrs. Phillips was already dialing the hospital.
“I’ll handle this, Charlie. Why don’t you try to get some rest? You look exhausted.”
I wanted to argue, to insist on being involved, but the truth was I could barely keep my eyes open. The adrenaline that had been keeping me going had finally run out, now that I knew she was at least safe and not in a ditch somewhere.
“Okay. But wake me up if you hear anything, alright?”
She nodded, already focusing on the phone as it rang. I dragged myself up the stairs, each step feeling like a monumental effort. By the time I reached my bed, I was ready to collapse.
I texted Kat, just to let her know what was happening, and to tell her that I was going to finally get some sleep. She didn’t answer and was probably in class. I closed my eyes and ... just lay there. I couldn’t help but think about Hanna, what she must be going through. How awful it must be.
It took me a long time to fall asleep.
Two days later, I was on a plane with Warren, flying to LA. It was strange heading to what might be the biggest moment of my career so far, with Hanna still stuck in the hospital, unable to come home. It had taken her hours, but Mrs. Philips had managed to get her on the phone and confirm she was at least safe and okay. Mrs. Phillips had said that Hanna was, naturally, very upset and had sworn up and down that she hadn’t done anything that would have made them think that she was a danger to herself or anyone else, and the whole thing had come as a shock to her. She said the police had told her the school had reported her as being suicidal and asked for the hold, but they couldn’t tell her exactly who’d made the call, although she didn’t know if they just wouldn’t tell her or actually didn’t know.
She was afraid it was Cross, which seemed like the most likely answer to me. Aside from getting Hanna out of the picture for a little bit and calming things down, it would make it easier for him to point to her as some disturbed girl not worth listening to if she had spent time in a restricted mental health ward. She also couldn’t come home for the next eight days, which seemed like forever, after which she would have to figure out what to do about school, since she was missing a lot of classes.
Hanna was distraught, both because of missing her classes but more so because Cross had publicly denied and lied about her. While I was glad she was finally convinced the relationship was over, she, of course, was not. Mrs. Phillips pushed her to talk to some of the counselors and avail herself of their help, as long as she was there. Hanna wouldn’t commit, of course, but I hoped she’d listen to her mom. Mrs. Phillips was planning on going to Chapel Hill the day she got released, pick her up, and go with her to talk to the college administration to figure out what to do about the remainder of the semester.
Part of me had wanted to stay, to participate, but there was nothing I could do. I’d be home before Hanna was even released, and Mrs. Phillips had made it clear this was a family thing. I mean, we were all a strange kind of family, but this was different. I think Hanna was embarrassed and just wanted her mother, which I could totally understand.
So half of me was thinking about the incredibly important meeting in front of me, while the rest was worrying about Hanna.
We landed and headed straight to ARC’s headquarters, which were located in a tower in downtown LA, not far from where GLR’s headquarters were. The experience between the two, however, was completely different.
We went inside and before I even gave the guard my name, he reached out for a fist bump and said, “Charlie. Welcome to the team, man. We’re stoked to have you here.”
“Oh, uh, thanks,” I said, bumping his fist.
He gave us directions to the elevator, one that was reserved for the executive floor.
“That was weird,” I said once the door closed, leaving me and Warren alone.
“I told you, these people are very happy to get you to join the label. They’ve been very aggressive in pushing the timetable, so it’s not that big of a surprise that word would have spread to even the guys on the bottom floor.
The doors slid open, revealing a sleek reception area. A young woman with a tablet in hand greeted us with a wide smile.
“Mr. Nelson, Mr. Rice, welcome. I’m Jenna, Mr. Steiner’s assistant. He’s very eager to get started. If you’ll follow me to the conference room.”
She led us down a hallway lined with framed album covers and music memorabilia. I recognized a few of the names ... artists I’d grown up listening to, icons in the industry. Along the way, people we passed waved and said hi, all knowing who I was. It was such a strange feeling, especially after how impersonal the GLR meeting had been.
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