The Third Message novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Count One

They found Bree that night, asleep in a pew in the Ridgemont chapel.

A counselor took her to the hospital, and campus police took her cardigan off the fence.

I flew home to Portland, and I danced.

On the first Saturday in March, the spring concert opened at the Ashford theater.

My solo was fourth on the program.

The wings were packed with dancers in warm-up sweaters.

June had a headset on and a roll of tape on her wrist.

I stood in the dark at stage left in my black practice dress.

Miles stood in front of me.

He had spent three weeks on the last eight counts, and he had not slept much either.

He put one hand on my hip, to check the line, and he left it there.

"Number," he said.

"Zero."

"Good."

The dancers on either side of us were pretending not to listen.

Miles spoke in the flat, professional voice he used for notes.

"After this, I'm taking you home. You won't be wearing that dress when we get through the door."

A girl beside us made a strangled sound.

June's headset slipped off one ear.

"Mr. Brenner," the director said from behind us, without turning around.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Not in the wings."

"No, ma'am."

I could not stop smiling.

"The piece has a name," Miles said, and now his voice was lower. "I put it on the program. Look."

He held up the printed sheet.

*Count One. Choreographed by Miles Brenner. Danced by Lana Aldridge.*

My eyes stung.

"Rule two," I whispered. "No pity."

"That isn't pity. That's a credit."

They called my name.

I walked out into the dark and stood at center and waited for the light.

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