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“What was the point of it all?” The answer is less urgent now than it was two months ago when I went to the Hamptons to demand answers from Dad.

“Because he was afraid you’d go looking for her. To find out more.” She sighs. “I had to play along and show you how to play along too. Do you see that now? Why can’t you stay like this? You must go back to the way things were or else…”

“Or else what? What happens if I don’t?” I meet her gaze.

“He doesn’t like it when you’re not happy.” She walks around the bed to lay a blanket over me. “But now that we’re back to his house, things can go back to the way they were. We can be a happy family again.”

Did you really forget, Little Dove?

Hisvoice is there again in my head, forcing me to face the truth.

I put the pictures back in the box and push them away. Sole looks down on me with so much pity in her eyes, and something else. She’s disappointed. Maybe she wanted me to ask her to retell one of her many stories of Mom. But I don’t want to hear them. I just want to sleep and not think.

“I’ll put the box under your bed. Okay? You can revisit them any time you want. Okay?” She purses her lips as she takes the box away.

The bedroom door shuts behind her, leaving me in complete silence. The spark I felt downstairs puffs out like a birthday candle. Darkness seems to blanket the room as I slowly descend again to a place where everything is numb. It’s easier this way. He’s not here. Nothing matters anymore.

Come Monday morning, I’ll have dance to keep me busy. With time, I will learn to forget his voice too. With time, I’ll be the doting daughter Dad wants me to be again. We can be a happy family. Just like we were before I methim.

If that’s what I have to do not to feel the pain of losing him, then so be it. I stare at nothing until the blue of his eyes goes gray. Until his impossibly beautiful face fades from my memory. Everything has to go back to the way it was before I methim.

Archer, Little Dove. Say it…

CHAPTER37

ALWAYS THE SAME DREAM

Paloma

It’s always the same dream.

Mom looks beautiful in her pink ballet leotard and skirt. I look up at her as she holds my hand while she walks from the subway station to the Performance Arts Centre. She’s so different from the woman in the portrait and all the pictures Sole has of her. But in my dream, I know this is my mom.

I spend all day with her and her friends because I’m sick and I can’t go to daycare. I love it when she lets me be on stage with the other dancers. And she’s happy to see me there. But then, the man shows up again. The one that makes her sad and scared. I can’t see his face, but he frightens me too.

Mom finishes rehearsals and takes me with her off the stage. On our way to the dressing room, other dancers stop her to tell her how beautiful her dancing was. I feel proud and think that one day I want to be just like her. Her hands tremble as she picks me up into her arms so we can walk faster.

In her dressing room, she locks the door and tells me to be good. I nod because I never want my mom to be sad or scared. I play with my ballerina doll while she packs her gym bag in a hurry. She holds her belly as if she can’t breathe.

“Mommy, can I wear my ballet shoes outside?” I show her the shoes her friend gave me earlier today.

“Sure, baby. Let me help you.” She takes the slippers from me and ties them just like hers.

“Am I a ballerina just like you?” I ask eagerly.

“Not yet.” She beams at me. “Let me see your pliés?”

I get up quickly and do my best pliés, making sure I’m doing it exactly as she says. She laughs and hugs me tight. But then the dream fades into a dark alley. I’m still wearing my ballet slippers, but they’re so dirty now. Tears stream down my cheeks because Mom is scared again. She holds my hand so tight as we run in the dark.

And then she’s gone. Her screams for help hurt my ears. Why is no one helping us? I find a hiding spot behind a big trash can and cover my ears. Her screams continue in the distance until she’s gone. I sit alone in the dark alley staring at my bloody ballet shoes until the man finds me. And then I’m screaming too.

It’s just a dream, Little Dove.

“Archer.” I sit up in my bed, panting like I just ran a mile.

And it’s like time hasn’t passed at all. I’m aching for him all over again. Every night, I’m afraid to fall asleep because I know when I wake up, he’ll be right there at the end of my dream waiting for me.

Archer.