Page 19 of Specters & Spotlights

Lark gave a practiced roll of her shoulders, drawing in a breath as if slipping into character along with the dress. Then she was gone, vanishing into the glow of the wings, her silhouette swallowed by the lights.

Elise let herself exhale. The tension slid from her shoulders like a shawl she’d been wearing since call time.

She stayed where she was. Partly because she needed to reverse the wig change for curtain call in a few minutes. Mostly because this next scene was her favorite. A hush settled over the wings. The first notes of the upcoming duet—“You Must Know I Love You”—curled through the wings like smoke.

Then—cool air, brushing her ankle.

She looked down.

Her shoelaces—once tightly double-knotted—now hung loose and unraveled.

Elise didn’t panic. Didn’t stoop to fix them. She just smiled, faint and knowing.

“Nice try, kid,” she murmured.

Fog spilled from the fog machines in the wings, curling low over the stage like breath on a mirror. From opposite sides, two towering bridge segments began to roll inward, creaking almost imperceptibly beneath the rising music. They edged closer, an elegant inevitability, until they met center stage, forming one sweeping arch.

And then…

Rain.

It spilled from the rafters like silver ribbons, catching the light and bending time. A choreographed downpour that somehow still managed to feel spontaneous.

Onstage, Elizabeth and Darcy drifted toward each other, hesitant and spellbound.

The music swelled.

This time, Elise heard it with nothing in between—no crackle of backstage monitors, no tinny speaker hum. Just voices.

Graham, low and certain.

Lark, clear and luminous and unafraid.

Elise shivered.

She would never get used to this.

From her sliver of space in the wings, she watched them rise—now atop the joined bridge, framed in falling rain.

Lark’s curls gleamed beneath the stage lights. Graham moved with that perfect combination of purpose and poise.

They hit their mark at center stage, alone atop the bridge. Fog coiled at their feet, the storm a hush around them.

The music stilled.

One heartbeat.

Two.

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

Elise mouthed the words with him. She always did. A whispered ritual, tucked behind the velvet wing.

She smiled. Here it came. The kiss. The exhale. The bow on the story.

Except—

Elise blinked. From her vantage point, she could see it all: their faces tilted, their eyes fluttered shut, the choreography of longing. But…their lips never actually touched.