Melanique headed in the other direction to check on the other ballet dancers.
Please, don’t let them ruin my day.
My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the doorknob to my dressing room, steeling myself for the encounter ahead.
The applause still echoed in my ears. It was a sweet but temporary escape from the reality I was about to face.
What could they want now?
So scared, I didn’t even open the door yet.
Memories flooded back unbidden. I’d left Maximo’s estate at fourteen due to earning a scholarship at Landmark Academy, the top ballet boarding school in the nation.
Honestly, it didn’t matter if it was the worst boarding school. I just wanted to get off that property. The scent of blood and death was always in the air.
Although I never personally saw my stepfather kill anyone, I always heard it in the dead of night—the sharp crack of gunfire, his harsh laughter, and boisterous cheers from his vile cronies afterward.
The chilling silence that fell on the estate by morning was always shattered by the arrival of the local undertaker who was well-accustomed with our address and visited weekly.
I let go of the doorknob and dug my nails into my palm.
Relax. Nothing is going to happen to you. Maybe. . .he really is here to congratulate you.
Hadn’t I given him what he’d wanted long ago? An excuse to not have to fully take care of me?
He signed the papers to that ballet boarding school without hesitation, practically shoving me out the door without so much as a goodbye.
It had hurt, but I was glad to escape.
Granted, it would have been nice for my stepfather to take me to the school like other parents did, but I did it on my own.
Maximo gave me the money and at fourteen I figured out what flight to take, booked it, called the cab, and even notified the school—to their surprise—on when and how I would get there.
Either way, my brother Vito—at ten years old—walked me to the cab and when I lowered down to give him a hug goodbye, he gave me a stinging slap, followed by the metallic taste of fear as he brandished a gun at me and the cab driver who'd dared to intervene.
But that was Vito—a violent, twisted little kid that had watched his father kill too many times to keep him sweet and normal. Sometimes at night on the property, when I would wake up to a man screaming. . .I heard Vito giggling.
Anyway. . .had Vito not had that gun, I would have kicked his little ass.
But. . .Vito did have a gun, and I knew damn well that even at ten years old, he knew how to use it.
At Landmark Academy, I felt safe from that twisted estate, and was happy to not hear from either of them.
My stepfather opened an account for me and gave me an allowance of $1000 a month which greatly helped with getting supplies and toiletries. I did my best to save as much as I could every month and I succeeded, accumulating great totals for a teenager.
I never went home during Christmas or summer breaks, I volunteered for the school and remained there to help the servants clean the hallways and dance studios.
Other times, a good friend would have me come back home with them.
After four years, I graduated from the academy and won a scholarship to Julliard.
My stepfather didn’t come to the graduation, but he did send a card and upped my allowance to $2000 a month.
I was grateful for it, but sometimes I did feel like it was guilt money. He knew my mother would have wanted him to do much more for me. . .like be there. . .like. . .love me. . .like say he was proud at least once. . .
But, I always took his money and said thank you.
Vito and Maximo never sent birthday or Christmas cards, but I sent them cards every year.
