Page 219 of The Bittersweet Bond

The applause was still vibrating in her bones, even as the echo of the performance slowly faded and the world fell back into its usual rhythm. She stood in the small dressing room behind the stage, while the rest of reality fought its way back into her consciousness from a distance. Her body felt strange—full of energy yet utterly drained. Every muscle in her legs ached, but it was a good kind of pain, a reminder of what she had just accomplished, proof of the weeks of hard work that had led up to this very moment.

Slowly, she stretched out her legs, rolled her toes, and felt the familiar pull in her tendons—aftershocks of all the strength she had poured into making it through the evening. Her fingertips absently traced the smooth fabric of her costume, still clinging to her skin, while her gaze drifted into the void, unfocused.

She knew she had to change, knew that Milka and probably Bas were waiting for her somewhere outside, ready to shower her with praise or crack jokes to shake off the tension still lingering in her shoulders. But she wanted to hold onto this moment just a little longer, wasn’t ready to let reality pull her back in just yet.

Then, she heard footsteps—steady yet hesitant, as if the person approaching wasn’t sure whether they should disturb her.

"Evin?" The sound of her name made her blink, pulling her gaze out of the emptiness, bringing her back to the present as she turned and found herself looking into the face of Mrs. Wagner.

Her teacher seemed focused, almost careful, as if she was searching for the right words, as if she knew that whatever she was about to say carried weight—that it wasn’t something that could just be said in passing, because it would change things.

"Do you have a moment?"

Evin straightened slightly, feeling her heartbeat shift unbidden, speeding up as her mind scrambled for clues, trying to understand what was coming. "Of course."

Mrs. Wagner took a step closer, pulling a document from the folder in her hands. A neatly folded sheet of paper. But it wasn’t the paper itself that caught Evin’s attention—it was the way it was being held. Not casually, not like an afterthought, but like something that mattered. Something that could open a door she hadn’t even known existed.

"I didn’t want to overwhelm you right after the performance, but I have something for you." The teacher paused briefly, as if giving Evin a moment to prepare herself before saying it out loud. "The Royal Academy of Dance has offered you a spot in their exclusive summer program."

The words hit her like a sudden gust of wind, strong enough to throw her off balance, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if she had heard correctly or if her mind was playing tricks on her.

"What?"

Her voice sounded foreign, as if it didn’t belong to her, as if it was coming from somewhere far away, not truly part of this reality.

Mrs. Wagner gave her a small, reassuring smile, nodding as if to confirm that, yes, she had heard correctly. "They saw you. And they were impressed."

Impressed.

Not just good.

Impressed.

The word clung to her, refusing to let go, seeping into her skin like ink, and as she tried to grasp it, she felt her fingertips tremble slightly, unconsciously twisting the fabric of her costume between them.

"That’s… impossible."

She could hear the tremor in her own voice, feel the way her pulse was racing as she stared at the paper still in Mrs. Wagner’s hands, unable to look away.

London? The Royal Academy?

A place that had always seemed like a distant possibility, never truly within reach—because it had never been part of her plan, because she had never even considered it an option for herself.

"This is a huge opportunity, Evin," Mrs. Wagner said gently, as if sensing how much the words were working through her. "As you can imagine, spots are extremely limited. If you want this, you’ll need to decide soon."

Evin blinked, her fingers tightening around the edge of her costume, as if holding onto it could keep her grounded, while her mind was already racing in another direction.

A part of her wanted to jump up, to laugh, to call Milka and tell her that she had done it, that someone out there had truly seen her.

But another part of her felt like someone had just kicked open a door—only for her to find nothing but a void on the other side.

"I…" Her throat was dry, the words sticking before she could force them out. "Can I think about it? And talk to my parents?"

Mrs. Wagner nodded with understanding. "Of course. But not for too long."

Evin let out a small, breathy laugh, but it didn’t feel real. "Of course. An offer with an expiration date?"

"In a way." Mrs. Wagner gave a knowing smile. "Spots won’t stay open for long."

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