Everyone except for my father and the man he’s chatting with.
I’m torn between trying to listen in on what they’re saying and the mesmerizing dance of the ballerinas. Initially the conversation wins, then the music twinkles out a brighter note and I redirect my attention to the beautiful ballerina that’s leaped onto stage.
Dark skin and darker hair that’s slicked down in a bun like the rest.
She immediately stands out, the star of the production. The star of the ballet from the moment she gives a graceful spin.
I become a man entranced. I can’t look away from the stage as mia bella ballerina twirls in the center. The others float by her as if in deference to her. She’s the princess this story is about, searching for the prince that has left her side.
My trance only deepens. I stop blinking and forget where I am. The lounge feels like it fades out along with the others in the audience. Call it delirium, but soon it’s just the two of us together. Mia bella ballerina is dancing for me.
When her dark eyes meet mine, my chest gives a twinge of pain. It’s as if she’s warning me. She’s alerting me to something I’m not aware of. The twinkling music and delicate spins are merely the language she uses.
I sit up straighter as the distortion begins clearing up. I’m on the brink of a discovery that I fight to learn even as it feels elusive and ambiguous. The dream’s coming to an end, but not before I finally make out the words being spoken.
“The treatment should be a success. Our company will flourish, and we’ll have profits like never before…”
I’m wrenched out of the dream with a deep sputter and twitch of my body. I sit up in the examination chair, lost for the first few seconds I’ve regained consciousness. The four plain walls of the sterile exam room surround me. Dr. Tulio must’ve stepped out for a moment.
I tear out the IV drip that’s inserted in my veins and snatch the pulse oximeter off my index finger. The treatment’s only partially complete. I know this because half the syringes on the tray next to the exam chair have been emptied. The drip is only three-quarters of the way full.
But it doesn’t matter if I’m interrupting my own treatment.
Answers are more important. It’s time I find out what the fuck has been going on.
I stride from the exam room and head straight for the underground.
I’m intercepted by one of my men, a worried look knitted onto his face. “Mr. C, we saw your wife leave with Matteo earlier. We tried to stop him, but he got away before we could stop him.”
“You imbeciles!” I roar. “What do you mean Matteo left with my wife? Left where? Why would you allow him to take her?”
“We had no choice, sir. He just?—”
“You had no choice?!” I roar over him. “You always have a choice, you imbecile! Get out of my way.”
I shove him out of the way and finish my stride down the underground hall, pulsing from rage and frustration. I need answers from Ms. Poitier to even begin addressing the shit I’ve learned about Matteo leaving with Nevaeh.
Ms. Poitier’s where I left her when I crank open the heavy iron door to her cell. She squints at the sudden burst of light spilling in from the corridor but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge me.
Knowing Ms. Poitier, she’s pissed at how I’ve treated her since discovering her alleged betrayal. I can’t say I blame her if they’re false accusations.
I stop a couple footsteps into the cell, surveying her with a hard stare. “Have I ever met Nevaeh in the past?”
“In the past? Define the past, C. Am I supposed to know what’s got you in a mood now?”
“Whenever! You tell me! There’s a reason I’ve been dreaming about her, isn’t there?”
“I don’t know why you have the dreams you have, C. That’s on your subconscious.”
“Don’t fucking deflect!” I snarl, waving a warning finger. “Have I ever seen Nevaeh perform before I brought her here and married her?”
Ms. Poitier hesitates a second longer, then grits out, “You might’ve seen her performances in the past.”
“How so? How when I don’t remember?”
“C, you’ve been on a lot of drugs over the years. So many different treatments. Your father was determined to find one that worked for your condition.”
“How does that connect to seeing ballet? Nevaeh perform?”
