I hang up and immediately text Rika with shaking hands.
Me:Emergency at dance studio. Zoe got into an altercation with another kid. Heading there now with Matthew.
I don't wait for a response. I tell a wide-eyed Matthew to put his shoes on, and we're out the door a minute later.
The drive to the studio blurs into residential streets and rising dread. I keep glancing in the rearview mirror at Matthew, who's pressed to the window, Mr. Gears clutched to his chest like a shield.
I pull into the dance studio parking lot at the same moment as Rika. She's out of her car before I can park. Our eyes meet across the pavement.
For a heartbeat, the last two days hang between us, tight and unresolved. Then Rika's gaze drops to Matthew, stepping out of my SUV, and she opens her arms as the boy runs to her.
"What happened?" Her voice is high-pitched, but she doesn’t seem panicked. The woman has nerves of steel.
I quickly fill her in as we hurry toward the entrance. Rika's breath catches, her wings fluttering against her back.
Inside the studio, the fluorescent lights are harsh and unforgiving. Ms. Langford waits near the front desk, silver hair pulled into a severe bun, her expression set. Another mother sits on a bench next to the desk, her arm protectively around a human girl about Zoe's age. A girl who holds an ice pack to the left side of her face. Her cheeks are blotchy. She's been crying.
Shit. This isn't good.
"Ms. Everdeen." Ms. Langford's tone is clipped as she greets Rika. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
"What happened?" Rika asks as her eyes trail from Ms. Langford to the other mother, who stares accusingly at Rika from the bench.
"Your devil of a daughter assaulted mine, that's what," the mother interjects. "What kind of child are you raising, to punch another girl in the face like that?"
Rika stares at the human woman, her mouth hanging open. She blinks repeatedly before turning back to Ms. Langford.
"You've known Zoe since she was four years old." Rika shakes her head. "She's never done anything like that before. There must have been a reason for this."
Ms. Langford draws herself up. "I'm sorry, Ms. Everdeen, but I do have a zero-tolerance policy on violence in my establishment. I’m afraid Zoe needs to leave."
Rika goes pale so fast it's almost frightening.
"You're expelling Zoe?" Her voice comes out strained, like she's forcing the air through her throat. "For one incident? Do you even know what happened?"
My eyes go to the girl, who holds the ice pack to her cheek and bites her lower lip. I remember her. She's Zoe's understudy. The one who didn't get the solo.
"Your name is Madison, isn't it?" I kneel in front of the girl and ignore her mother as she glares at me.
The girl nods but refuses to make eye contact.
"You're a friend of Zoe's, aren't you? I remember seeing you two laugh together the other day after class," I say with a soft, muted tone. "Do you want to tell us what happened, in your own words?"
Everyone watches as the girl slowly turns her gaze to me, then to her mother, and finally to Rika.
"I'm so sorry." The girl's face crumples and she turns pleading eyes to her mom. "I didn't mean for it to go this far."
Her mother stills and looks at her, then nods for her to continue.
"I told Zoe that she may have won the solo, but at least my dad was there at the recital, not some nanny."
The girl's eyes fill again, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
Rika's wings snap shut behind her. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. For a second, she looks like she might shatter right there on the dance studio floor.
The girl starts crying harder. She scrubs at her face with the back of her hand, voice wobbling.
"I was jealous that she got the solo and I didn’t and I just… said something awful."
