PART 2: THE EMPTY STUDIO
Derek looked uneasy.
“Audrey, not now.”
“Please.”
He glanced toward the house and spotted me.
His whole expression changed.
He smiled.
“Hey! Everything okay?”
I walked closer.
“That’s what I was about to ask.”
Audrey released his sleeve and hurried for the front door.
I watched her vanish inside.
Then I turned to Derek.
“What was that about?”
He laughed.
“Oh, nothing serious. She’s upset because we didn’t stop at the drive-through.”
I frowned.
“She has dinner waiting inside.”
“Exactly. I told her we’d be home soon enough.”
He flashed another smile.
“Teenagers, right?”
Before I could ask anything more, he drove off.
I went into the house.
Audrey wasn’t in the kitchen.
Then I heard her sobbing in the downstairs bathroom.
I knocked softly.
“Sweetheart?”
“Go away.”
My stomach clenched.
“Audrey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Did something happen with Derek?”
“No!”
“Then please talk to me.”
She opened the door.
Her face was streaked with tears.
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
I took a step back.
She had never spoken to me like that.
I wasn’t angry.
I was scared.
Something was badly wrong, and my daughter seemed certain that I was part of the problem.
That night, I asked Scott to talk to Derek.
He looked baffled.
“About what?”
“About whatever happened in the car.”
“Derek said she was upset about stopping for food.”
“Scott, I heard her asking him to talk to me about something.”
He sighed.
“They probably had some little disagreement.”
“But why was she crying?”
“Claire, I’ve known Derek almost thirty years. He wouldn’t deliberately upset Audrey.”
I understood why my husband trusted him.
I had trusted him too.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something important was being hidden from me.
The next afternoon, I made up my mind to visit the studio myself.
I arranged to leave work early.
I told neither Scott nor Audrey.
I wasn’t trying to embarrass my daughter.
I only wanted to talk to her somewhere she might feel comfortable discussing ballet again.
When I got there, classes were letting out.
Students streamed from the studio with their bags.
Through the glass, I could see several dancers near the barre.
But Audrey wasn’t among them.
I waited.
More students came out.
Still no Audrey.
A woman holding a clipboard walked up to me.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for my daughter, Audrey Bennett. She’s in the advanced teen program.”
The woman said her name was Ms. Alvarez.
Audrey’s instructor.
I smiled politely.
“I wanted to surprise her. Is she in another room?”
Ms. Alvarez’s face changed.
She studied me carefully.
“Mrs. Bennett, may I speak with you privately?”
My stomach tightened.
“Of course.”
She guided me into a small office and shut the door.
Then she asked a question I was not prepared for.
“Your daughter hasn’t told you what’s been happening, has she?”
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
Ms. Alvarez looked worried.
“Audrey hasn’t attended class in almost two weeks.”
For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.
“That can’t be right. She comes here three evenings a week.”
“Yes. She has been coming to the building, but she hasn’t participated in lessons.”
My heart began to pound.
“Why?”
The instructor paused.
“She told us her parents didn’t think she was talented enough to continue.”
I stared at her.
“I’m sorry?”
“She said you and your husband believed she wasn’t ready for advanced ballet.”
I shook my head.
“No. Absolutely not.”
Ms. Alvarez looked startled.
“Audrey said it was your decision.”
“I never told her that.”
I took out my phone.
“Look. I’ve been paying her tuition. I even asked her about recital auditions.”
Ms. Alvarez looked over the screen.
Then she sighed.
“I had a feeling something wasn’t right.”
“Why didn’t anyone contact us?”
“She insisted you’d made the decision and begged me not to intervene. Our office sent messages about her absences.”
I checked my email.
The messages had ended up in my spam folder.
I looked up.
“Was Audrey having trouble in class?”
“She’s been nervous about performing, but she’s improving. She earned her place in this program.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
For weeks, my daughter had believed her own parents wanted her to give up the thing she loved most.
And I’d had no idea.
“Do you know where she goes during class?” I asked.
“I’ve seen her in the lobby, but I don’t know where she spends the rest of the time.”
I thanked her and rushed outside.
I found Audrey near a vending machine.
She was still in her school clothes.
When she saw me, she shot to her feet.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
I tried to keep my voice steady.
“I came to see you.”
Her face hardened.
“Did you talk to Ms. Alvarez?”
“Yes.”
She turned away.
“So now you’re checking up on me?”
I shook my head.
“Audrey, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”
Tears rose in her eyes.
“You know what’s happening.”
“No, sweetheart. I don’t.”
She stared at me.
“You don’t want me dancing here anymore.”
It felt as though the floor had tilted beneath me.
“Who told you that?”
Her face crumpled.
“Derek.”
I went completely still.
She wiped her eyes.
“He said you and Dad agreed I wasn’t good enough for this program.”
I couldn’t find my voice.
Then she added something that broke my heart.
“He said you were embarrassed to tell me because you knew how much ballet meant to me.”
And the man who had said it was still waiting to drive her home.
