“I’ll tell you, Lev, I swear, but only after. Please believe me. I want to watch the rest of Ana’s performance.”
Lined with water, her gaze fucking breaks me. Cripples me until all I’m left with is the desire to grant her desire, even though it’s the last thing I actually want. “Fine.” I push off the wall and clasp her hand, dragging her down the aisle to ourseats. Most of the guests have already re-settled, and we’re two of a handful still standing. “As soon as this is over.”
“As soon as we’re home.”
Not good enough.Arguing in front of everyone is only asking for trouble.
If finishing the show makes her smile again, that’s a small price to pay while sitting in torment, mind whirling as to what changed within ten minutes.
We settle into our seats a moment before the show resumes. The curtain lifting hardly registers, given I’m so busy watching her, searching for a crack in her expression that’ll hint at what she’s afraid of.
Once Ana begins her ballet leaps—or whatever the fuck they’re called—the stress marring her beautiful face shifts into pleasure and relaxation. Every once in a while, Serafina’s expression falters, and her eyes dart to the side of the room. Every single time, I follow, seeking whatever has her attention but finding nothing.
After a while, I force myself to watch my sister dance, but it doesn’t make me any less aware of Serafina. The way she claps with the crowd, when her smile shifts.
The second half of my sister’s performances usually drag. Maybe because the intermissions grant a much-needed reprieve, and it’s a tease before sitting through the rest. This time, it’s worse than ever and has nothing to do with me.
So, when Anastasiafinallyends in the centre of the stage, close to the edge, and bows to the audience giving a standing ovation, it takes everything in me to not haul Serafina away and wait until the show comes to a complete end.
As the curtain begins lowering and stage lights dim, Ana looks our way—first to me, the slightest ripple in her forehead before she smiles at Serafina. But her smile is distant and empty, which tells me my perceptive twin noticed Serafina’s demeanourshift, even from the thirty-second glimpse she would have gotten with the reduced lights.
The moment the curtain completely rests on the stage floor, I drag Serafina towards the door to the back entrance. Once we’re away from the buzz and excitement and alone in the service hall, I spin her around.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Let’s go home first.”
“Fi—”
“Lev,please. Vanessa will want to hear this, and we should get my brother on the phone. It’s important.”
I can’t even consider what she’s about to say. “Tell me first.”
“If I do, you’ll get mad.” Her expression is one of heartbreak—maybe mine.
Arguing with her isn’t getting me anywhere. Serafina’s too fucking stubborn to fold, so with a conceding grunt, I lead her to the exit, texting my sister at the same time.
Me
Something’s wrong, but she won’t tell me until everyone’s together. You need to get home sooner rather than later.
Annoying Twin
I thought she looked strange at the end there.
Me
She’s hiding something.
Annoying Twin
I’ll be right behind you.
Me
Drive fast.
My sister dealt with, I open another thread.
