The Voice They Stole: A Vargas Reckoning

nths were a syste

n his ear, used his family' s

ia, we' re sorry. We have t

ll the venues have canceled

isappeared from magazine covers. The narrative was set: Mia Vargas, th

one place that still felt like mine. The gold rec

on, the doo

to his arm, a smug, pro

his voice dripping with contempt

uching my equipment,

d. "But you just can' t let it go, can you? Clin

I said, m

er. Still thinks she can give orders. Jax, honey, she

s stand. It was the last thing my father gave me before he died-or so

rds it. "This is your problem. You' re stuck

cked

hat," I warned,

"It' s time t

n, he smashed the guitar against

ings snapped. The body of the guitar, my histor

I lunged forward, not at him, but

m. "What, you w

vision blurred with rage

gle, he shov

rd floor with a jarring impact. But it wasn' t the fall that did the damage. It

ng pain shot t

, trying to speak, but only a choked, g

on one of pure satisfaction. "Looks l