Page 2 of Stolen Fate

Evelyn

Six Years Ago

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Watch your breathing, I reminded myself. I had to. I was on the verge of passing out, and it wasn’t even me up there. My dad was sitting beside me in the packed auditorium, and he grabbed my hand, giving me a reassuring squeeze before we both turned our attention back to the stage.

Then the emcee came out and my heart nearly gave out. I hated how slow he was walking. He held a small envelope in his large hands and paused to give the audience what I was sure he thought was an award-winning smile.

My hand tightened around Dad’s hand, and he leaned in. “Relax, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.”

I let out a small sigh. Sure it would be. It had to be. She had outshined all the other dancers on the stage, there was no way she didn’t win first place.

And I wasn’t just saying that because she was my little sister.

She was the best. She even got a standing ovation.

Dancing was in my little sister’s blood. And even though that same blood ran through my veins, it must have always been dormant in me, because I couldn’t dance to save my life.

But Emilia Adler was definitely our late mother’s daughter, right down to her soulful green eyes and wavy, dirty blonde hair.

I took after my dad, with brown eyes and brown hair. I supposed our looks matched our personalities: Where Emilia was easygoing and carefree, I was serious and cautious.

The emcee opened the envelope and I held my breath.

“And the winner of this year’s Junior Miss competition is…” I rolled my eyes when there was an actual drumroll coming out of the speaker—way to build up anticipation…

“Emilia Adler!”

Dad and I both stood up and cheered. We were probably the loudest ones there, and it didn’t bother me one bit because my baby sister’s name was just called. Emilia came out on stage, a bright smile gracing her lips and, even from a distance, I knew her eyes were misty from unshed tears.

I had tears in my eyes, too, and I didn’t wipe them away as they fell down my cheeks in streaks.

Dad wrapped his large arm around me and pulled me in close. She did it! She did it!

After months… no, years of hard work leading to this moment, there wasn’t a way in hell the Juilliard School hadn’t taken notice. They were here scouting, and it was well documented that the winners of the competition usually got accepted to Juilliard the following fall semester. That had been the family’s dream for Emilia for so long, it was hard not to feel hopeful.

We took our seats when the applause died down, and the emcee continued to announce the second and third prize winners. I noted happily that Emilia’s best friend, Cameron, came in third.

His mom, Alice, who was sitting next to us, let out a happy cry and grabbed my hand. Then, once again, we stood up and cheered him on.

It was a happy occasion, and I knew we would all be going out to celebrate later.

* * *

The three ofus waited for Emilia and Cameron in the packed waiting room just outside of the auditorium with the rest of the other families.

Dad was carrying Emilia’s favorite flowers, white daisies, in one hand—ones he’d had the good sense to buy right before he drove her to the performance. I looked around for a chair when I spotted an empty one not too far from us, and I led Dad to it so he could rest his leg.

He shot me an appreciative smile and took a seat, and I imagined he was sighing internally, finally able to get off his leg.

I took his cane and laid it against the wall next to him as we both looked to the doors that led backstage, the ones the dancers would be exiting from. I couldn’t wait to see my baby sister’s face after walking out with that first-prize trophy in her arms.

It wasn’t long after that that the doors busted open and all the dancers and their coaches came out at the same time. Dad held onto me as he stood, and I grabbed his crane, handing it to him.

“Do you see her?” he asked gruffly.

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