Chapter 6
When Natalie woke again, she was completely alone.
Aside from the first day she’d been admitted, when they had shown up for a brief moment, she
hadn’t seen anyone. It was just nurses–coming in to change her bandages, help her eat, making
sure she was still breathing.
No one else came.
She didn’t need to guess. They were all likely gathered around Clarissa and her newborn, wrapped
in the glow of their perfect little “family.” Who would have time to remember her?
But she didn’t plan on disturbing any of that–not anymore. She was leaving soon.
Just before discharge, one of the nurses brought Natalie an envelope. It was a letter from an old
friend–someone she used to dance with back in the regional performance troupe.
She opened it and read carefully, each word steeped in affection and nostalgia.
She was about to leave the capital for good. And once she was gone, coming back would be nearly impossible. At the very least, she thought, she should say goodbye,
On the day she was discharged, Natalie packed her things by herself, signed all the papers on her
own, then returned home to drop off her suitcase.
After that, she went straight to the troupe.
As soon as she walked into the main hall, she heard laughter and chatter.
Then a voice she hadn’t heard in weeks. One that made her blood run cold.
Natalie froze in place.
She followed the sound, stepped into the rehearsal room… and saw Clarissa. Dressed in her old
Capitol Ballet costume. The one she’d worn before the accident. Chatting and laughing with the very
people Natalie used to call her friends.
The people she had once helped, supported, trusted–not one of them even looked her way. They
stood there smiling at Clarissa like nothing had changed. Like she didn’t exist.
Natalie stood frozen.
Clarissa turned, pretending to be surprise. “Sis? What are you doing here?“.
Natalie’s lips pressed into a line. “Why are you here? And why are you wearing my costume?”
Chapter 6
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“Oh! You mean this?” Clarissa twirled, the hem of the skirt fluttering like a mockery in the air.
“Colton thought I might get depressed staying home with the baby too long, so he arranged for me
to join the troupe.”
“And this costume? It was just sitting around–figured I’d make use of it.”
“I told him not to pull strings for me, but you know Colton–so thoughtful.”
She glanced around like a kid in a candy store. “I didn’t know dance rehearsals could be this fun! No
wonder you loved it so much.”
“And since you can’t dance anymore… I figured I’d help you fulfill that dream.”
She beamed. “Honestly? I think the costume fits me even better than it did you. Don’t you agree?”
Natalie’s fists clenched at her sides, knuckles pale with tension, her voice shaking with restraint.
After Clarissa’s mother had taken her away all those years ago, Natalie had been left to die in a freezing creek.
By some miracle, an elderly woman had found her. She wasn’t even related–her only son had died
in the war, leaving her childless. But she raised Natalie as if she were her own granddaughter.
To fund Natalie’s dream, that old woman didn’t dare spend a penny on herself. She worked the
fields by day, wove baskets and mats by candlelight at night. She skipped meals. Sold herbs she’d
gathered at risk to her own life.
With the little money she saved, she bought fabric–hand–stitched each seam of this costume
under the dim glow of the only candle in the house. The lining was sewn for comfort, every thread
laced with love.
Natalie wore this very costume when she auditioned for the Capitol Ballet Company.
It had carried her dream.
And now, it was on Clarissa. The woman who destroyed her.
How dare she stand there in it.
Rage surged through Natalie’s chest. Clarissa had already stolen her parents. Her husband. And now she wanted to take the only thing her grandmother had left her?
“Take it off,” Natalie said, voice like ice. “Give it back.”
Clarissa’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she bit her lip, looking wounded.
Sis… Colton was my fiancé. And Mom and Dad were mine first.”
“You’ve already taken everything I ever cherished. Can’t I even have this one dress?”
