Page 89

I only know that I can’t look away. I can never look away again. From this moment on, everything will be different.

Olivia stands with twelve girls and five boys at the barre, her gaze fixed intently on her teacher, who Brittany tells me is named Ms. Garcia. She listens very carefully, her chin slightly raised, her back straight. Her heels touch. She’s standing in first position, even though they haven’t really started the lesson yet. Ms. Garcia shows them the figures they’re starting with, simple pliés. This is how every class will begin for the next few years, over and over again.

I flinch when I feel a light touch on my forearm. It’s Brittany’s hand, making a soothing gesture, and my lungs finally expand again. She gives me an encouraging smile, and somehow I manage to return it.

She nods almost imperceptibly, and I think she understands what’s going on inside me. How overwhelmed I am by it all. And I think she also understands that I left not because I didn’t want to be with Olivia but because I was simply incapable of staying.

Neither of us says a word as we watch the lesson for the next forty-five minutes. She may look like Isabel, but Brittany is right: She dances like me.

When Ms. Garcia dismisses the children at the end of the lesson, Olivia’s gaze drifts to the window for the first time. To me. My heart skips a beat, and once again I have to remind myself to breathe.

A hesitant smile crosses her little face, and her eyes light up. She walks toward Brittany and me, and with every step she takes, my pulse quickens a little.

I feel dizzy, but I have to pull myself together. I can’t mess this up. Not again, never again.

She stops in front of us and lets Brittany hug her. Her grandmother whispers something to her that I can’t hear before Olivia turns to me. I crouch down so we’re at eye level.

“Hey, Livy,” I say hoarsely, the nickname Isabel gave her coming naturally to my lips. She giggles, and her laughter strikes me right in the heart.

“My name is Olivia.”

My eyes burn. “I know.”

“But I like Livy. You can call me Livy if you want.”

“Only if you want me to.”

She frowns thoughtfully and then smiles again and nods. “Yes.”

“I’m Phoenix.” My voice no longer obeys me. I’m completely overwhelmed, and my head is empty and much too full.

Olivia puts a hand on my shoulder and looks at me reproachfully. “I know who you are.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. You’re my dad.”

I take a deep breath. “That’s right.”

“Grandma says you’re a dancer.”

I need to clear my throat before I can answer. “Exactly. I was in New York at the ballet, dancing.”

“Will you show me?” She points to the studio behind her.

“Now?”

A slight shrug, a hint of uncertainty in her big blue eyes. “Maybe.”

I look up at Brittany, a silent question. She just nods, her eyes shining with tears, and my throat tightens. I straighten up. “Okay. Are you coming in?”

A radiant smile spreads over Livy’s face, and then she slips her tiny hand in mine.

Chapter 44

Lia

The wall I built around my heart, my feelings, and myself so I wouldn’t break down falls on a Tuesday in early November.