seat at the back and spend the next hour watching Maggie rehearse, wondering if maybe she’s right—maybe I do have a sense of entitlement.
Tatya had offered to train me, but she was a friend of the family. A friend to me.
Why did I think it would always be that easy?
I chew on my thoughts like they taste stale and wrong until I convince myself that they are.
Maggie leaves without even a glance my way, and when her spotters leave too, I find myself transfixed by the static trapeze still hanging in the air.
Empty. Solemn. Waiting to come back to life.
And before I know it, I’ve lowered the bar and pulled myself to a standing position, feeling the grip of rope between my fingers. Remembering what it felt like to come to life in the air.
I pull myself up, imitating Maggie’s split. I know my legs aren’t as straight, and my core isn’t as strong. I can feel my arms trembling slightly when I shift from one position to the next. But I can do what she did.
I can be a trapeze artist.
And with the right training, I think I could be a great one.
Maybe that isn’t Maggie’s problem, or her responsibility, and deep down I know I can’t be mad at her for that. She doesn’t owe me anything, and maybe it wasn’t fair that Simon and I made a deal that involved her without even involving her.
It was bad form. I didn’t know it before, but I know it now.
But maybe I don’t need Maggie’s help. Because here, where it’s quiet and I’m alone with my thoughts and everything I’ve learned over the years, I can train by myself.
I could keep practicing, the way I’ve been practicing, but I’ll work harder than I ever have. I’ll put in as many hours as it takes, and I’ll prove myself without Maggie’s mentorship.
And maybe one day it will be enough to prove myself to my parents, too.
I won’t give up now. Not when there are still options left.
I place my feet back on the bar, considering where to move my legs, when Sasha’s accented voice makes me jump. I grip the ropes tighter, finding him in the doorway with his eyebrows raised.
“You can’t be in here alone,” he says. “Aerialists have to have a spotter at all times. Even the non-flyers.”
“I’ll keep the bar low,” I say. “I just wanted to practice.”
He twists his mouth. “I’m sorry, but rules are rules.”
I let myself down from the bar, my face burning fiercely.
“If you ask someone to spot you, you can train as much as you like,” he offers.
I nod a few times as I walk past him, and I feel my mind imploding with so much frustration.
Because where would I find a spotter? Most of the people here have already decided to ignore me, and if I ask Vivien or Dexi, I risk making them feel the same way about me that Maggie does. Like I’m entitled and I expect help and free labor.
I can’t ruin what little trust I’ve built with them. And I won’t be someone who spends her time here begging for scraps.
I’ll just have to find another way.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I’m almost asleep when I hear my phone vibrate. It’s an email from Mom.
To: FlightOfTheRedPandagmail
From: Delilah.Milanoteatrodellanotte
Subject: The time you lost your tooth
Do you remember that day at Disneyland? You lost your tooth eating a churro. You were so worried the tooth fairy wasn’t going to visit you in California that you asked me to look up her email address on the internet. I always thought that was funny—how you’d see a problem, and immediately start coming up with solutions. You never believed something just couldn’t be done.
You carried that tooth around the entire day but lost it sometime between Pirates of the Caribbean and meeting Mary Poppins. Your dad and I were worried you’d be upset, but you started laughing and couldn’t stop. You said most people lose a tooth, but you really lost one. It made us laugh too.
You were happy when you were little. It seemed like you’d always be happy.
Is it my fault that changed?
Please call me.
Love, Mom
I’m happy right now, I want to write back.
But I don’t. Because I’m not sure I can handle any more lies.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next day and a half drag on and on and on. But when I step out of my trailer on Thursday evening, my heart pings up into the air like a balloon filled with helium. It’s a nice