Mark

The back lot is dark.

It’s chilly and drops of rain hit my face. I look up at the sky, but I can’t leave. My fists tighten and release, and I pace the dirty asphalt. I don’t like Gavin in Lara’s room. I don’t like what he might be saying to her, ordering her to do… and fuck, I’m pissed at losing our night together.

I look at the chunky stainless steel watch I got at the shop when I bought back her mother’s pen. Ten minutes. I reach for the handle, ready to face the consequences and storm back in there, when it pushes into my fist.

Gavin steps out into the darkness. “Figured I’d find you here.” His voice is a growl, and he shoves a square slip of paper in my hand. “Take that to the Walgreens on Magazine Street. Tell the doc it’s a standing order.”

“But…” I look down at the paper. Narcan is written on it, and some physician signed it. I can’t tell if it’s real or a forgery. “There’s no name on this.”

He steps closer, speaking through clenched teeth. “That’s why you go to the fucking Walgreens on fucking Magazine Street. What the fuck have I said about you questioning me?”

My jaw tightens. This asshole has given me close to five thousand dollars in the past week alone. Half of it went to clothes. A little bit went to gas and the hotel in Union City, but enough is left over to keep me on the line. If I have a few thousand coming in every week, it’ll be enough for me to keep my promise to Lara and even include Molly in the process.

I back down. “When do you need it?”

His shoulders relax along with his voice. “I want it in my hands first thing in the morning. We have the situation under control for tonight.”

I know he’s talking about Tanya. I know what I saw, and if she was already shooting up, her situation is progressing fast.

“It’s late, but I’ll go there before I go home.”

“You have a car?”

“I’ll catch the streetcar.”

“Better get going.”

He stands in front of the door with his arms crossed, and I’m pretty sure this errand is as much about getting me out of here as it is getting what he needs to revive Tanya when she overdoses.

Shoving the paper in my pocket, I start walking south toward Canal. I’m two steps away when he stops me.

“If you’re smart, you’ll keep your hands off Lara.”

I look up over my shoulder. His expression isn’t cruel or menacing, and I’m sure he’s trying to give me good advice like Terrence did my first day.

“I’ve never been very smart.”

The rain is picking up, and I keep moving.

* * *

Lara

Like a giant wheel, our week begins again with stale breakfast, never enough, rehearsals until we dance in our dreams, costume adjustments, set repairs, and then back to bed to sleep until it all begins again.

Mark finds me in the wings, where I watch as Fiona works with the dancers. One look, and I’m in his arms. It hurts so much, I can’t push him away. We’re behind the heavy, dark curtains, and our times here making love are like muscle memory. His tongue finds mine, and he kisses me long and hungrily, warm breath whispering across my cheek, strong hands lifting me against the hardness in his jeans. I slide my fingers into his soft hair, but this time I’m wearing yoga pants not a skirt, my panties firmly in place.

“I miss you so much,” he says beside my ear, and despite my panic and fear, I cling to him, battling tears as he kisses my cheek then my lips again. “Maybe we can try tonight?” Then he sees my expression. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

It rips at my heart to let him go, but I steel myself. “I can’t. I have to stick to my plans with Freddie.”

“Why are you saying this now? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. I made a promise, and I have to keep it.”

“No, you don’t.”

I nod, swallowing the pain in my throat. “It’s my fault Molly’s here. She’s in danger because of me—”

“She’s not a puppy, Lara.”

“I never said she was.”

“Yet you dedicate yourself to her as if…” he pauses, looking for the right word.

“As if I were her mother?”

“Yes.”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” I turn and go to the door leading to the backstage passage. My hand is on the handle just as his finds my waist and arm. He pulls my back against his warm body, and my insides melt.

“Wait,” he says. “Don’t go yet.”

“It’s better if I do.”

“But what about us?” He presses his face into my hair. “Don’t we matter?”

“I could never forgive myself…” My voice fades, but the truth remains.

I could walk away and leave her behind to face whatever fate awaits her… And I’d never be happy as long as I lived.

His grip relaxes, and he steps back, releasing me. “So you’re determined to end it.”

Pain wrenches my insides. “I’m sorry.”

He starts to say something, but I’m through the door before I can hear it, running to my shared room as fast as my legs will take me.

I’ve given up on dreaming about a future with Mark, but each afternoon a small token appears on my dressing table.

First it was a single blue iris. Then it was a tiny chocolate, next a little sketch of two hands, the fingers entwined.

By Thursday, I have a collection in the small basket beneath my dressing table, along with the box that holds my mother’s perfume.

Tonight he behaves as if nothing has changed. He watches me climb from the top of the ladder with a calm expression on his face, and while we wait, he holds my hand and caresses the top of it with his thumb.

It’s excruciating, but I’m too overwhelmed to argue. I don’t understand why he’s behaving this way, deluding himself and killing me.

“Nothing’s changed,” I whisper in the moments as I get in position, belt around my waist.

“I’m not letting you go.”

Pain. “I’m leaving with Freddie.”

“Not yet.”

I shake my head and turn away as my seat moves out, and I present the same song of disillusionment to a new set of dazzled faces.

Freddie is preoccupied in my dressing room, but I do my best to keep my demeanor light. “I hope you’re not growing tired of me,” I say, tracing my finger up his hand and slipping it under his cuff. “It always makes me happy to know you’re out there watching.”

He laces our fingers and kisses my cheek. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” he says, releasing my hand.

Panic tightens my neck. “Bad news?”

“I’ve got to go to Paris tonight… in just a few hours, actually. Not enough time to take you with me, I’m afraid.”

My heart slams to the floor, and I don’t have to pretend to be horrified. “What?”

He pulls me against his chest. “I know, and normally I’d be thrilled to return home. This time all I can think of is not seeing you.”

I’m afraid I might lose it. “For how long?”

“A month, three weeks at the most. Apparently some urgent business matter requires my immediate, personal attention.” Then he smiles. “But the good news is there’s a divine little jewelry store just off the Champs-Élysées. I have the perfect gift in mind—”

“A month.” My voice is quiet as fear trickles into my veins.

“Will you forget me?”

“Of course not.”

He kisses my lips then reaches for his breast pocket.

“To be sure, my adorable little Luddite, I bought you something useful and something to help you remember me.”

I’m numb as I take the box and open it to find a golden locket. He opens it to reveal a tiny picture of himself inside.

I stare at it, unable to smile.

He chuckles and turns me around to fasten it at my neck. It’s too long and slips between my breasts. When he turns me back around, I don’t lift it for him. I hold my breath as he silently observes its position.

Maybe if I sleep with him…

The air is charged as I wait for his response, ready to welcome anything that might take us away from here to Paris, but he only pulls the delicate chain, lifting the locket into his hand.

Our eyes met, and my almost-tears are real this time. “How can you leave me?”

“I know, it’s excruciating, but now for the something useful.” I watch as he again reaches into his breast pocket and removes a slim, white device. “I took the liberty of buying you this, active and ready to go.”

My eyes flicker down to the phone in his hand.

“And your number…” He takes my mother’s pen off my dressing table and writes on a tissue. When he finishes, he rolls the pen around in his fingers. “This is a nice piece. Where did you get it?”

“It was my mother’s.”

His eyebrows quirk up, before he continues. “Roland programmed his number, and of course my number is saved. We can video chat every night. It’ll almost be like we’re together.”

I only nod. “Goodbye,” I say, causing Freddie to clutch me again in a long embrace.

“I confess, your fatalism warms my heart, but I’ll be back before you know it. Sooner if at all possible. And in the meantime, I’ll just be working around the clock so as not to be constantly thinking of how miserable I am without you.”

I can’t reply or even make eye contact.

“One last kiss, and I have to get to the airport.” He squeezes my hands before pressing his lips to mine and giving me another long embrace. “I adore you, ma petite chou.”

My eyes are fixed on the floor as he disappears from my life, and a cold certainty trickles down my spine.

It’s over.

I go to my dressing table as if in a trance. I place the phone there and put my hand around the golden locket, staring at it a few moments. Then by force of habit, I let it go and reach for the packet of face wipes to clean off the makeup. My hand falters, and my glance flickers to the mirror. My eyes are the same blue they’ve always been, and my hair is swept away and up in a style that sends my large, dark curls cascading down my back.

But I’ve changed.

I’m haunted.

Desperate.

Again I imagine taking Molly and running away. But where would we go? I could pawn these new gifts Freddie has given me—the diamond bracelet, the barrette, this locket—but for how much? And how long would it last? Would it be enough for us to get away?

Just then Molly enters the room, her eyes as round as mine. “I heard Freddie say he’s leaving without us.”

My own anxiety rushes back, and I go to the door, shutting it and double-checking the bolt before answering. In the face of her fear, a determination I didn’t know I possessed rises. We are not trapped, and I will find a way to save us.

I slide my hand under my pillow to retrieve the white tank I sleep in. “Get ready for bed,” I say.

She robotically obeys, and as we’ve done since her first night here, I pull her back into my chest and smooth her hair away from her face, trying to calm the tremors that keep passing through her body into mine.

The moonlight streams through our tiny window when I begin to speak. “Your mother was a gorgeous dancer…”

Her body shakes hard, but I take a deep breath and continue. “And when she met your dad, she couldn’t help but love him. He played such beautiful music on the guitar.”

My arm is tight around her waist, and I feel as her trembling begins to subside, her fear dissipating because she trusts me. It’s all she knows to do.

My eyes grow damp, but I clear my throat and keep going. “He had no money to marry her, so he went away to find his fortune. But before he could return, she was married to another man. He came back anyway, and she went to him. And nine months later, you were born. But your beautiful mother had to return to her husband, so she left you with me until she could come back to get you—”

“It’s all a lie,” she cries out. “She’s never coming back, and something terrible’s going to happen to us.”

“I won’t let anything terrible happen to you.” My voice is low and firm. “I told you that, and you have to believe me.”

She doesn’t answer, so I continue to my next story. “In a month, Freddie’ll be back, and I’ll quit the show. We’ll move to Paris, where we’ll live in a house on the Avenue Montaigne and I’ll have a limo and diamonds—”

“And a little dog,” she says, the smallest glint of hope returning.

“And a little dog.” I repeat, swallowing my fear. “And we’ll never think about this place. Ever again.”