Chapter 2: The Girl Who Didn’t Know Her Own Mother
I couldn’t move.
Brianna’s words replayed in my head.
My mother.
Her shoes.
A picture.
“How would your mother have a picture of my mom?”” I asked.
Brianna looked uncomfortable.
The confidence she usually carried like armor was gone.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Chloe rolled her eyes.
“Brianna, are you seriously saying you suddenly know Emily’s dead mom?””
“I’m not saying that.””
“Then why are you acting weird?””
Brianna ignored her.
She looked at Victoria.
“You knew Sarah Mitchell?””
Victoria nodded.
“Yes.””
“Did you know my mother too?””
Victoria studied her face.
“What is your mother’s name?””
Brianna hesitated.
“Rachel Carter.””
Victoria’s expression changed instantly.
It was small.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
“Rachel…” Victoria repeated.
My heart started beating faster.
“You know her?””
Victoria slowly sat down on the bench.
“Yes.””
Nobody spoke.
The dressing room that had been full of laughter minutes earlier became completely silent.
Mrs. Parker closed the door.
“Maybe we should talk privately.””
But Victoria shook her head.
“No. Emily deserves the truth.””
I held my mother’s letter against my chest.
“What truth?””
Victoria looked at me.
“Your mother and Rachel were friends.””
I frowned.
“Friends?””
“Yes. Very close friends.””
That made no sense.
My mother never mentioned anyone named Rachel.
Not once.
“Then why didn’t I know about her?””
Victoria looked down.
“Because after Sarah got sick, Rachel disappeared.””
Brianna stepped back.
“Disappeared?””
“Yes.””
I looked between them.
“Why?””
Victoria took a deep breath.
“Because there was a misunderstanding between them.””
“What kind of misunderstanding?””
Victoria didn’t answer immediately.
That scared me more than anything.
Finally, she said, “A painful one.””
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Brianna suddenly spoke.
“My mom kept this.””
Everyone turned.
She reached into her dance bag and pulled out her phone.
Her fingers moved quickly.
Then she showed us a picture.
My breath caught.
There they were.
Two young women standing outside a dance studio.
My mother.
And another woman who looked exactly like Brianna.
They were laughing.
Happy.
And my mother was wearing my ballet shoes.
“They were best friends?”” I whispered.
Victoria nodded.
“They were.””
I stared at the screen.
For years, I thought I knew everything about my mother.
But I was realizing I only knew the parts she left behind.
“Why would your mother hide this from me?”” I asked Brianna.
Her eyes lowered.
“I don’t know.””
For the first time, I believed her.
Maybe Brianna wasn’t just being cruel because she was mean.
Maybe she was repeating something she had been taught.
The door opened suddenly.
A staff member walked in.
“Emily? The judges are asking to speak with you.””
I wiped my eyes quickly.
“Okay.””
But before I could leave, Victoria grabbed my hand.
“Wait.””
I looked back.
She held the envelope.
“You should read your mother’s letter before you make any decisions about your future.””
I nodded.
Later that night, after the competition ended, I sat alone in my bedroom.
The trophy from the competition rested on my desk.
The old ballet shoes sat beside it.
Two completely different versions of my life.
One shiny and new.
One worn and forgotten.
But both important.
I slowly opened the envelope.
The paper inside was yellowed with age.
My mother’s handwriting filled the page.
My dear Emily,
If you are reading this, it means you finally danced in front of the world.
I smiled through tears.
I could hear her voice.
I kept reading.
I wanted to tell you something years ago, but I was afraid my past would become a burden you carried.
I froze.
My eyes moved down the page.
There was something about your birth that I never told you.
My hands trembled.
I continued.
The night you were born, someone made a choice that changed both our lives forever.
I stopped reading.
My room suddenly felt cold.
Someone made a choice?
Who?
I looked at the bottom of the page.
There was one final sentence.
May you like
A sentence that made me forget how to breathe.
Emily, if you ever meet Rachel Carter’s daughter, you must know the truth about what happened the night you were born.
