Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“Good luck with that,” I mutter.
We walk into the room. Already, Talia is surrounded by other Vory visitors, and beside her, Alexei holds his son. I pause, almost feeling like I’m intruding on this moment as the new parents speak to each other in hushed whispers, gushing over their firstborn child.
The natural chain of thoughts makes me think about Nakya. I think about what she would look like here beside me, my babies in her arms. It’s an empty fantasy, and I am grateful when Alexei breaks the spell and gestures me farther inside.
Viktor whistles when he sees the stroller. “Very nice, Kol’ka.”
“Limited edition,” I say. “Only the best for our newest Vor.”
Alexei rises to greet me, and to my surprise, he reaches out to shake my hand. “Thank you for coming, bratan. And thank you for the gift.”
“Of course.”
There is an awkward moment of silence between us, but it’s a moment of understanding. Alexei isn’t just thanking me for the gift, he is thanking me for my help during the past month. But more importantly, he is forgiving me.
“Are you ready, Niki? You’re on in five.”
I rise en pointe to test out my shoes. A hard-won lesson. “I’m ready. Thank you again for this opportunity.”
Louis nods, his eyes moving down to my ankle. I know he’s worried it won’t hold up, and in all honesty, it might not. But I’m grateful he gave me a chance, even if it’s a small one. My days of being a soloist are over, but for tonight, I have a guest spot at the local ballet company, performing in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
One last dance.
While my days spent teaching children are fun, it isn’t the same, and it will never be the same. My love for the ballet cannot be fulfilled through teaching. A dancer who can’t dance is as good as an artist who can’t create. I don’t know what my future holds, but I know that I’m ready to say goodbye to this chapter of my life.
“Niki?” One of the stagehands waves to get my attention.
“Yes?”
“Someone left this for you.”
My hand trembles when she offers me the solitary white lily. She smiles, and I think I smile too, but my mind has just gone from zero to sixty, and I think I might throw up. When she disappears back down the hall, I open the attached note, reading the words with deliberate care.
Shine bright little star before you burn out forever.
A tingling sensation expands my heart and out through my limbs. One lily. Alexei mentioned to me once that it’s considered bad luck to give anything but odd numbers of flowers in Russian culture. The message is cryptic, and it could be from any of the Vory. But the flower itself has meaning that can’t be ignored.
In ballet performances, white lilies signify purity. It could only be from him.
“One minute,” someone tells me.
I need to think about so many things, but there isn’t time. I set the gift aside and take a breath. It’s my turn, and to say that I’m nervous as I make my entrance onto the stage would be an understatement. The last time I did this, it ended horrifically. But I can’t let that night stain this memory for me. Before I retire my shoes forever, I want to pay tribute to everything that ballet has given me. And if that note is any indication, it might be the last thing I ever do on this earth.
I throw everything I have into the performance—body, heart, and soul. Magic is real, and it exists on the stage. Around me, butterflies and fairies twirl. Tinkers and tailors and weavers enter the fray, hair whipping and arms swaying as they perform their duties. Lovers quarrel, and a forest is born. Stars cross, and chaos ensues. Kings and queens fall, and I learn how to fly again. Leaping through the air with slicing jetés and bounding across the stage with the lightness of a feather. It’s the most painful performance I’ve ever given, but it’s also my best.
Because I am free.
Tears cling to my cheeks as the final curtain falls, and when I exit the stage, I’m limping but at peace. I collapse onto the closest chair I can find and bask in the adrenaline high. Several of the dancers congratulate me on a job well done as they exit the stage behind me, everyone buzzing with the excitement of our collaborative effort.
“It appears that the angel has found her wings again.”
Ocean eyes crash into mine, and his name exalts from my lungs before I can stop it.
“Nika.”
He smiles, and it feels like sunshine after an eternal winter. Everything else falls away, and there is only the chaos in my heart when I look up at him.
“Come.” He holds out his hand for me.