Ruby's heart felt like a trapped bird beating against the cage of her ribs. The silence in the ballroom was no longer elegant; it was suffocating. Every eye in the room—the director's, the stagehands', and the terrifyingly sharp eyes of the Boron siblings—was pinned to her. No problem, Mr. Boron, the director stammered, his previous rage evaporating into a puddle of sycophancy. Just a minor lapse in concentration. Ruby is our best. She's... she's just been working very hard. Baron Boron didn't look at the director. He didn't even acknowledge the man's existence. He remained at the edge of the stage, his presence anchoring the room. Up close, he was devastatingly handsome in a way that felt dangerous. He lacked the polished, corporate shine of his older brother Zion; there was a ruggedness to him, a jagged edge that suggested he spent more time in the shadows than in the light of a boardroom.Is that right, Ruby? Baron asked. He used her name like it was a secret he'd just uncovered. Hard work? Yes, Ruby managed to say, her voice cracking slightly before she regained her performer's mask. She dropped into a shallow, respectful bow. My apologies for the error. It won't happen again. Zion Boron stepped forward then, checking his platinum watch with a flick of his wrist. Enough of this. Baron, we have the board meeting in twenty minutes. If you're satisfied with the tools for the gala, we should go. Brick is already halfway to the car. Zara Boron, the youngest and most vibrant of the clan, let out a soft, melodic laugh. Oh, leave him alone, Zion. Baron has always had an eye for... raw talent. Though I must say, she does have a look about her, doesn't she? Zara tilted her head, her sharp eyes scanning Ruby's face with the clinical precision of a diamond cutter. Something familiar.Ruby felt the blood drain from her face. She prayed the stage lights were bright enough to wash out her sudden pallor. She couldn't lose this job. If she lost the gala contract, she lost the bonus. If she lost the bonus, Mira's preschool tuition would bounce, and the fragile house of cards she had built would come crashing down. We're done here, Baron said abruptly, his voice cutting through Zara's speculation. He turned on his heel, but not before his gaze lingered on Ruby for one final, scorching second. See that she stays on the roster. I want to see the full routine at the private viewing on Thursday. As the heavy doors thudded shut behind the Boron family, Ruby collapsed into a heap on the floor, her legs finally giving out.
The clock was a relentless enemy. Dior! Get up! We're going from the transition again! the director yelled, his fear of the Borons having transformed back into his usual tyranny. Ruby danced. She danced until her toes felt numb and the salt from her sweat stung her eyes. Every time she closed them, she saw Baron's face. She heard that voice. I'm sorry. The words he had whispered four years ago in that windowless room. Was it him? It had to be him. But the Borons were untouchable gods. Why would a Boron need to pay for a nameless girl in the dark? By the time she was released, it was 4:45 PM. Shit, she hissed, grabbing her bag and sprinting for the exit.The daycare closed at 5:00 PM sharp. Every minute late was a ten-dollar fine she couldn't afford. She ran through the rain-slicked streets of the city, her dance bag thumping rhythmically against her hip. Her lungs burned—the same familiar fire that had eventually claimed her mother—but she pushed through it. She burst through the doors of the daycare at 5:02 PM, gasping for air. You're late, Ruby, Mrs. Gable said, pointing pointedly at the clock. Again. I know, I'm so sorry. The rehearsal ran over. The benefactors showed up and— Mama! Mira came flying out from behind a bookshelf, her little arms wrapping around Ruby's knees. The weight of the child was the only thing that kept Ruby grounded. She picked Mira up, burying her face in the girl's neck, breathing in the scent of crayons and apple juice.I made you a picture, Mira whispered, holding up a crumpled piece of construction paper. Ruby looked at it. It was a drawing of two people. One was clearly Ruby, with big red hair. The other was a tall, dark figure with no face. Who is that, bug? Ruby asked, her heart skipping a beat. The man from my dreams, Mira said simply. He was standing by the bed last night. He told me not to be afraid of the dark. Ruby felt a chill that had nothing to do with her damp clothes. It was just a dream, Mira. Just a dream. The walk back to their cramped apartment was a gauntlet of anxiety. Ruby kept looking over her shoulder, convinced she saw black SUVs with tinted windows idling at every corner.They lived in a walk-up that smelled of boiled cabbage and old floor wax, but inside their four walls, Ruby had tried to create a sanctuary. There were fairy lights draped over Mira's bed and posters of famous ballets pinned to the walls. After a dinner of boxed mac-and-cheese, Ruby sat at the small kitchen table, staring at her bank statement. She was twenty dollars short for the utility bill. She looked at the "Perfect Bride" competition flyer she'd seen at the studio—a high-society pageant of sorts that the Borons were rumored to be sponsoring. The prize money was enough to move them out of this district forever. But it meant being seen. It meant standing in front of the world and inviting scrutiny.Suddenly, a heavy knock sounded at the door. Ruby froze. No one knocked at this hour. Her landlord usually just yelled through the vents. Mira, go to your room and stay there, Ruby whispered, her voice tight. But Mama— Now! Ruby waited until she heard the click of Mira's bedroom door. She walked to the entryway, her hand trembling as she reached for the deadbolt. She peered through the peephole. The hallway was dim, the yellow light flickering, but she could see the silhouette of a man. A man in a tailored suit that cost more than the entire building. She cracked the door, keeping the security chain engaged. Can I help you? she asked, her voice hovering between fear and defiance.