whole story like I do—but I’m in a hurry to get to my parents, and I’m not interested in giving them more information than they already have.
They notice me, as evidenced by the hushed whispers of embarrassment that follow.
My parents’ office door is slightly ajar, and I catch a glimpse of deep burgundy carpet from the hall, a pair of shadows strewn across the floor.
Mom looks surprised to see me. She’s sitting behind her desk, one arm across her chest and the other folded up toward her shoulder. It’s the way she always sits when she’s thinking hard about something.
Dad shifts his gaze to look at me. He seems flustered, almost like they’ve been arguing, which would be strange. They never argue.
The words fly out of my mouth before my brain has the decency to think. “If you’re fighting about Tatya, the rumors aren’t true. She’s not joining Maison du Mystère.”
Mom leans forward so her elbows rest on the desk. “How do you know about that?”
I throw a thumb over my shoulder. “I mean, anyone walking through that hallway right now would know. But I saw Simon earlier—he basically cornered Tatya outside. She didn’t even keep his business card.”
Mom looks at Dad, who shrugs, like maybe it’s true, and maybe it isn’t.
“You don’t believe me?” My voice carries a sting. They never take me seriously—even when it doesn’t have anything to do with me.
“We believe you,” Mom counters, standing from her chair and making her way toward me. She closes her hands around my arms and squeezes like it’s supposed to be reassuring. “But there’s been a lot of hearsay today, and there’s no point in discussing anything without Tatya in the room to speak for herself.”
“What I told you wasn’t hearsay. I was there,” I argue. And then my stomach coils. “Is Tatya in trouble?”
“Of course not,” Dad says with a sigh. “Any performer has the right to interview with other troupes. I mean, we’d hope she’d at least finish out the rest of her contract, but if Tarbottle is paying her what I hear he pays his current lead aerialist, I don’t know if that would stop her.”
“I just said she’s not taking the job—” I start.
“Her contract ends in December,” Dad cuts in, his eyes the serious woodsy brown they get when he’s lecturing me. “Even if she isn’t going to take the job now, another job offer will give her grounds to renegotiate her salary. We might not be able to afford to keep her if it comes to that.”
I frown. “What are you saying?”
Mom lifts her hands and pushes down at the air like it’s supposed to slow us down. “We are merely thinking of all the possibilities, and whether we may need to think about taking interviews to find Nina a second if she ends up taking Tatya’s place. We’d be halfway through the season, and losing a contract renewal with one of our leads is not something we want to be unprepared for.”
Something sparks to life behind my sternum, like the tiniest flame in a cold, dark woodland. A second. For Nina.
Dad moves across the room with a thick folder of paperwork—most likely copies of all the new sheet music. There are folders just like it at home. He stuffs it into one of the enormous filing cabinets against the back wall and spins the combination lock a few times when the door is shut tight.
Mom plucks her pen from her desk and sticks it in the ceramic pot beside her computer monitor. She turns back to Dad, her mouth open like she’s ready to fall back into normal business talk, but I can’t let her. If I don’t say it now, I might never get the chance again.
The hope sears through my words, jolting everything in the room like I’m made of electricity. “What about me?”
Mom and Dad look at me with confusion at first, their brows matching with puzzlement and interest. I think Mom figures me out a moment before Dad does because she’s first to tilt her head forward and flatten her mouth. A sign that I’ve been heard—and am about to be ignored.
I keep talking, hoping I might be able to say something—anything—that will make them understand how important this is to me. “I would work so unbelievably hard. And I already have most of the routines memorized. Some of them I’ve even practiced when I’ve been in the gym. And I get along with Nina, so you wouldn’t