My heart plummets deep into my belly. “What?” I squeak.
“I called her this morning, over and over, and she didn’t answer. I got worried and went home; she wasn’t there. I searched and I searched, but she’s not answering my calls. Let’s not become alarmed, it could be as simple as her visiting a friend and her cell battery has gotten flat. I need you guys at home because I’ve got to get out and look, and between looking for your mother and work, I won’t be able to take you to your sports, as planned. I’m very worried as you can imagine.”
Liam is staring out the window, his face red. “She wouldn’t just let her phone go flat, Papa,” he murmurs. “This is Mom we’re talking about.”
“That’s why I’m going to look. I’ll take you home where I know you’re safe and we’ll go from there.”
Something just doesn’t feel right. My stomach is turning and my heart aches. I hope she’s okay.
~*~*~*~
“It’s been ten days,” I sob into Liam’s chest. “Why hasn’t she come home?”
“I don’t know, Avie, I don’t know.”
“You two need to get to school,” Papa says, storming in. He’s disheveled, his suit is crinkled and he’s flustered. He hasn’t slept much for the past ten days and I know he’s suffering, too.
“I don’t want to go,” I say in a shaky voice, holding onto Liam.
“There isn’t a choice, Avery. I can’t have you here; I’ve got enough going on.”
“So do we,” Liam says, narrowing his eyes at our father.
“Don’t start with me, boy, get her to school and make sure she’s safe.”
I get to my feet, still sobbing. I don’t want to go to school but I don’t want to make things harder for Papa either, so I do as he asks and I go and get dressed. I’m numb as I pull my shoes on. Waking up isn’t easy when Momma isn’t here. She just disappeared and no one can figure out where she’s gone. There have been policemen and questions, but there’s been no Momma.
I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again.
CHAPTER 1
AVERY - 2014
“Allegro, Avery. You seem stiff.”
I swoop my body to the ground, extending my hands and twisting in a graceful yet quick movement. I lift my eyes to my teacher, Lyn, and see she’s got her arms crossed over her heavy bosom. I’m not moving stylishly enough; she’s making that very clear. She’s got me doing a routine to a slower tempo, and it’s not my forte.
I lower my head as my body swoops towards the floor, and I gracefully spin again, lifting up onto my toes before extending my leg out the back and then stretching my arms out wide and bringing my body back down so my fingers lightly graze the floor.
“Smoother,” Lyn orders. “You’re not moving smoothly enough, Avery.”
I close my eyes, concentrating harder. Three seconds later, I’m on the floor. My ankle twists beneath me and I cry out angrily, full of frustration. Lyn sighs, and walks over, kneeling down in front of me. “You have to get this right, Avery. It’s essential. How are you to teach the younger students if you can’t get the move right?”
She has a point; I have to get it perfect. I’m studying to be a ballet teacher with the academy, deciding that perusing a dancing career wasn’t something I truly wanted to do. I want to teach, it’s where my strength lies. I’ve been at the Ballet Academy since my mother, Taylah, went missing ten years ago. These people became my family, teaching me to dance and find my outlet. It’s my everything. My only escape. My only passion. I want to teach other children, maybe give them the same escape I was lucky enough to have.
“Take a break for the afternoon. We’ve been training for three hours. Go home, practice the routine and we’ll start first thing in the morning. You’re doing so well with everything else, we just need to get this one right.”
I nod, rubbing my tired ankles. “Thanks, Lyn.”
She reaches out, cupping my chin. I look up into her tired, blue eyes and I can see the pain there. She feels for me. I know she does. Sometimes it’s not a good thing. I don’t like having pity; I just want to be normal. That seems like it’s something I’ll never experience in my life.
“You’re an amazing dancer, Avery. You’re compassionate and strong,” she says, softly. “You just have to let go.”
She stands without another word and leaves the studio. I drop my head, fighting back everything inside myself. I know I have to be better, but to be better I have to let go. I get up each day and my routine is the same: I work until lunchtime and then I spend a few hours here, practicing and helping out the other teachers. Then I go home, sit alone most nights and spend my time trying to think about anything other than her.
The years do not ease my pain; they only seem to put a coating on it. It’s never easy not knowing and that’s what it’s been like for us since she went. We just don’t know. There were investigations, there were questions, and there were searches and pleas. She never came back. We never found her. We don’t know if she’s dead or alive.
Our family fell apart.
“Avery.”
I lift my head to see Jacob, my boyfriend coming into the studio. Our relationship is somewhat organized so I can’t say love or attraction factor in the equation. My father is rich and very well-known in our town. He happens to be extremely close to Jacob’s family and their businesses run alongside each other. It’s almost been set from day one for Jacob and I to marry. It seems logical. I don’t fight it. There’s more than one reason why.