Chapter 9 The Final Deadline
The morning of the dress rehearsal feels like the air before a lightning strike. My eyes are burning from lack of sleep, but the weight of the thumb drive in my pocket keeps me awake. It feels like a ticking bomb.
I walk through the Academy's glass doors, half-expecting security to grab me. But the lobby is quiet. The only sound is the distant rhythm of a piano from one of the upstairs rooms.
"Zoe."
I jump, spinning around. It is Caspian. He looks like he hasn't slept either. He is standing by the trophy case, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Did you look at them?" he whispers, glancing around to make sure we are alone.
"I did," I say. I step closer so our voices don't carry. "Caspian, it's worse than I thought. He didn't just lie. He paid off the witnesses. He's been planning to bankrupt my mom from the start."
Caspian closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, they are full of a cold, quiet anger. "I checked his desk this morning. He knows someone was in the office. He thinks it was a staff member. He's firing the night security team."
"He's going to find out it was me," I say, my voice trembling.
"Not today," Caspian says. "Today, he's focused on the Board meeting. The Gala starts in twenty-four hours. He wants everything perfect."
"Zora Vane! Center stage! Now!"
Coach Elias's voice echoes down the hall. We hurry to the main auditorium. This is the first time we are rehearsing on the actual stage where the Gala will happen. The velvet curtains are draped high, and the spotlights are so bright they make my head spin.
Sloane is already there, stretching. She looks at me with a smirk that says she knows something I don't.
"Positions!" Elias barks.
The rehearsal is brutal. Elias is a perfectionist on a normal day, but today he is a tyrant. Every time I miss a step or slow down a fraction of a second, he stops the music and makes us start over.
"Again!" he yells for the tenth time. "Caspian, you're holding her like she's made of glass. Grip her! This is a story of passion, not a tea party!"
Caspian grabs my waist. His hands are shaking. I look up at him and see the sweat rolling down his temples. He isn't just tired. He is terrified.
"I can't do this," he whispers as we prep for the final lift.
"Yes, you can," I hiss back. "Look at me. Forget the Board. Forget your father. It's just us."
We move into the sequence. I feel his strength return, but just as he goes to lift me, a door at the back of the auditorium slams open.
A tall, dark figure walks down the center aisle. Arthur Thorne.
Caspian falters. I feel his grip slip. I hit the stage floor with a dull thud, my ankle twisting under me.
"Stop the music!" Elias screams.
I gasp, clutching my ankle. The pain is sharp and hot.
"Caspian!" Arthur's voice booms through the empty theater. He doesn't look at me. He doesn't ask if I am okay. He walks straight to the edge of the stage. "A Thorne does not stumble. Get it right, or don't get on that stage tomorrow."
Caspian stands frozen, his arms hanging limp at his sides. He looks small under the harsh spotlights.
"She's hurt, Dad," Caspian says, his voice cracking.
Arthur finally looks at me. His eyes are like chips of ice. "She's a professional. If she can't handle a simple lift, she shouldn't be in this Academy."
He looks at his watch. "The forty-eight hours are up, Miss Vane. I'll be in my office at five o'clock. Bring your mother and a pen. Or don't show up and see what happens to your home."
He turns and walks out without another word.
Coach Elias hurries over, kneeling beside me. "Can you walk?"
I try to stand, but a bolt of lightning shoots up my leg. I wince, sinking back down. "I think I sprained it."
Sloane walks over, her arms crossed. "What a shame. I guess the strong heroine isn't so strong after all. I'll be happy to take the lead spot for the Gala, Coach."
"Shut up, Sloane," Caspian snaps. He kneels beside me, his face a mask of worry.
"Everyone out!" Elias shouts. "Caspian, take her to the infirmary. Sloane, go practice your solo in Studio B. Now!"
Caspian scoops me up in his arms. I am too tired and in too much pain to fight him. He carries me down the long hallway toward the school nurse.
"I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. "It's my fault. I got distracted."
"It's not your fault," I say. "He did that on purpose. He wanted me to fall."
The nurse wraps my ankle in a thick compression bandage and gives me an ice pack. "No dancing for at least forty-eight hours," she warns.
"I have the Gala tomorrow," I say, my heart sinking.
"Not with that ankle, you don't," she says firmly.
When the nurse goes to the back room to get some crutches, Caspian leans in close. "Zoe, you have to go to the meeting. Sign the papers. If you don't, he'll destroy your mom tomorrow while you're sitting at home with a broken leg."
I reach into my bag and pull out the thumb drive. "I'm not signing anything. I'm going to that meeting. But I'm not going with my mom. I'm going alone."
"You can't face him alone," Caspian says. "He'll eat you alive."
"I have the files, Caspian. He thinks I'm a janitor. He thinks I'm dirt." I look at my bandaged foot. "He thinks he's already won because I can't dance."
I stand up, leaning heavily on the chair. The pain is still there, but it is nothing compared to the fire in my chest.
"I might not be able to dance tomorrow," I say, my voice cold and hard. "But I can still fight."
I look at the clock on the wall. 4:15 PM.
I have forty-five minutes to get to his office.
"Give me your phone," I say to Caspian.
"Why?"
"I need to record a video. Just in case I don't come out of that office.”