Page 44 of The Breakaway

He drew a breath and shook his head. “I wasn’t going to live on charity.” He walked to our cart of supplies, grabbed a clean cloth, and dunked it in the bucket of warm water. “I got this job. Started to save up. Logan found out after practice and told me to move in. They needed painting done in the house. That was my first month’s payment.”

I stopped in front of him. “Logan didn’t tell me that.”

Rob wet his lips. “Probably because I asked him not to.”

I watched him. The flick of his dark lashes against his cheeks. The tiny twitches of his lips. “Why?”

He exhaled. “Because it’s embarrassing.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s not.”

Rob glanced down at the water dripping over his wrist, then back up at the last chalkboard. “One more.”

I nodded, then took my dirty rag to the cart. “You didn’t qualify for grants? Or loans?”

Rob reached up again. That time, I didn’t look away. “My dad used my name to push off some of his oil royalties in ‘93 and save on taxes.” He wiped the cloth over the slate, leaving perfect, clean streaks across the cloudy board. “On paper, it looks like I’m loaded.”

“Will you see any of that money?”

He let out a puff of air. “Not likely.” He finished with the top corner, then walked back to the cart.

“I’m sorry. About what I said earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

Rob dropped his rag in the cart. He adjusted his shirt. “Yeah. I know.”

After washing our hands and restocking the cleaning supplies, we crossed the square. It was ten-thirty, and I wasstarting to feel it. I yawned as Logan slipped his key into the lock on the front doors of the arts centre.

I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing in the empty foyer. The building felt different at night, the familiar spaces transformed into something dark and eerie. The perfect site for a futuristic dystopian novel.

I hurried through the atrium to the open rehearsal space, my heart pounding. But as I approached the table where I'd left my violin, my stomach dropped. It wasn't there.

"No, no, no," I muttered, frantically searching the surrounding area. "It has to be here."

Rob frowned. "Maybe someone moved it?”

“Who would move it?” I planted my hands on my hips, turning in a circle.

“Let's check the other rooms."

We split up, combing through the building with growing desperation. Maybe they’d turned it in? The admin offices were locked, and Rob didn’t have a key for those.

I walked down the hall to the concert hall and flicked on the backstage lights, and immediately saw my case. Sitting on the floor next to the podium behind the curtains.

“Rob!” I shouted, rushing forward. He wasn’t anywhere near the hall. I grabbed the handle and turned to exit the way I came in, when movement made me freeze. Ice slid down my spine, my chest tightening.

“Did you find it?” Rob’s voice.It was Rob.Of course it was. Nobody else would be in the building this late at night.

I nodded, holding up the case. Rob strode toward me, his hands in his pockets. He appraised my case. “Are you going to play me something?”

My eyes widened. “It’s almost eleven o’clock.”

He considered this. “You asked for your Christmas gift. This is mine.”

My mouth fell open. “That’s not fair.” My heart felt like it was pumping up a full-to-the-brim beach ball.

He gestured at the black, empty hall. “It’s only me.”

“That’s so much worse.” I walked forward to the front of the stage. “Normally, lights are blinding me so I can’t see anything.”

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