I see a hawk circling overhead as I unlock the front door. At the sight of him my skin crawls with familiarity, but then I push the thought away. Mom warned me about the hawks … but then again, she warned me about a lot of things.

She’s waiting for me in the living room, listening to one of her old records, cup of tea in her hand. She has a spread of tarot cards on the coffee table, and she stares at them intently.

“You returned,” she says with a hush to her voice.

“I’m tired,” I tell her, my hand already on the banister leading up stairs. I just want to pull my blankets over me and sleep.

“What happened?” she asks.

I swallow, not wanting to tell her about the vision. About seeing my sister. About memories resurfacing.

“I’m going to bed.”

She nods. She’s not stupid, she knows upset I’m with her.

“Won’t you stay down here, listen to more of the story?” she asks.

But I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. And why should I believe your words anyhow? You’ve fed me a lifetime of lies.”

She calls for me, but shallow apologies can’t compete with the depths of my sorrow.

My feet are on the stairs and I’m climbing, away from her. I can’t imagine a time where I would have had the desire to turn back.

* * *

At rehearsal the next day I try to act natural. Like I’m not upset. But the guys seem to know I’m unhappy and are constantly trying to ask if I’m okay.

Last night North let me know he thinks I’m some breakable thing. But I’m not. I may not be the most worldly person, or have tons of life experience, but I got this show all on my own. I’m a fighter, and I know how to work hard.

I may be small in stature, but I’m strong in heart.

And maybe I haven’t shown them that side of me. They met me after I got the contract, they didn’t see me in training mode, when I worked twelve hours days practicing for five years straight.

I need them to understand that, while I feel safe in their arms, I don’t need them to protect me. I don’t need some mythical Mother Earth telling them to take care of me.

I won’t let them in if they don’t want to tell me their whole story, because I know they are holding something back.

And the thing is, I can’t exactly hide how I feel when we’re forced to trust one another with every dance sequence that Melanie has prepared for us.

“Okay, let’s take ten,” Melanie says after a few hours. She calls me over and asks what’s up.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re off. It’s not like you. I can tell you’re distracted.”

I swallow. Am I so obvious? “A little. But I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I’ve done enough shows to know that your head needs to be in the game 120% if this is going to work. And you’re head is in the clouds.”

“I’ll sort it out,” I assure her, already overwhelmed at the prospect.

“Listen, Lark. This is a massive, life changing opportunity. One you have worked toward for years. And you earned it. I know it’s a lot to absorb, but you need to get rid of any and every distraction in our life.”

I twist my lips and my eyes flit over the guys who are getting water, stretching, grabbing some food from their bags.

“Is it the crew?” she asks, following my gaze.

I don’t answer.

She sighs, shaking her head. “Don’t even think about, Lark. It will only lead to trouble. You need to be focused. This is your one shot.”

“Right. No pressure.”

Melanie isn’t having it though. “It’s not a game Lark. The casino has invested millions into this production. You can’t waste any of it over a few attractive men who you need to be in a working relationship with. You can date after the show. But right now, you need to–”

I cut her off. “I get it. I need to keep my head in the game.”

“Good. You understand.”

I nod. “I do. This show means everything. Being on stage is one place I’ve always felt like I belong.”

A thousand other dancers would kill for this opportunity. I won’t let the stories in my head distract me from my one and only goal.

I know Melanie is right. And not just for me–the guys too. They were made to move.

When I look across the room, watching as Vaughn and Arrow move with so much authority, soaring between bars and beams, it’s obvious they are in their element.

My chest tightens when Brecken and Sawyer leap from their trapeze bars and glide to the floor–it’s the same way my heart is full when I step off the tightrope and corkscrew down twenty feet, only to be caught by North.

Being in this show is not to be taken lightly.

She gives a sigh of relief, obviously grateful that I am taking her advice. “Take risks after opening night. Not before.”

After rehearsal, when Vaughn asks if I want to hang out, I tell him yes, but with everyone. Melanie’s words are fresh in my mind and I want to lay down the law before everything gets out of hand.