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Senetsky going to an event and Howard out of our

hair, we all felt a bit more confident about violating

the boundaries of the house and paving Gerta another

visit.

Ice remained downstairs while Cinnamon. Rose. and I pretended to be tired and went up to bed. Steven lingered a while and then grew bored and went to his room and his games. A little less than a half hour later, Ice told us Ms. Fairchild had retired for the evening, warning her to be sure everything was turned

off and things left neatly before she went up to sleep. Still quite nervous and frightened, we all

descended the stairway, pausing occasionally to listen.

All I heard was the pounding of my own heart, the

blood thumping through my veins and echoing in my

ears. A grandfather clock banged the hour.

Floorboards creaked, but other than that, the house

was very quiet.

At the doorway to Madame Senetsky's private

rooms, we paused one final time. All of us knew that

once we entered, there was no turning back. Secrets

would spill over. There would be serious

consequences. Our careers would be seriously set

back. What drove each of us to go forward with these

realizations bubbling under our skin was not very

different. I thought. We each saw something of

ourselves in Gerta, in her plight and in her loneliness. During one of her frequent lectures. Madame

Senetsky had emphasized how a good performer

always brings something of himself or herself, some personal, even traumatic experience to his or her

performance.

"It is the way we see ourselves in others,

especially in roles we are asked to perform, that will

determine how well we will exhibit our talents." she

explained. "Whether it be music or dance or acting,

the commonality we all share is the well from which

you will draw your aesthetic sense and strength. "Be perceptive, use your compassion and your