Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

KATIE

It was the day of the town’s Fall dance recital, and I could hear people noisily filing into the dance hall from backstage. All the tickets had sold, so I knew it would be filled to capacity.

Our hair and make-up girl had taken a bad fall and asked Chardonay, of all people, to stand in for her. All day, she’d been throwing me dirty looks, but I’d ignored her.

Today was about the kids.

Dad and Ellie had taken their seats, along with Maria, Grace’s nonna.

While I kept an eye on the girls, who had just taken to the stage to rapturous applause, I heard Chardonay call out Grace’s name. There was a hint of cruelty to how she enunciated Leone that caused me to bristle.

I took myself off to the corner of the room. I could hear and see Chardonay and Grace from my location, but they couldn’t see me.

“Lucy said her mommy and her daddy are in the audience today,” Chardonay stated, callousness souring every word.

“Uh-huh,” Grace replied.

“Every girl I talked to today has their mommy and daddy here. Except you,” Chardonay stated spitefully.

Grace squeaked as the succubus attempted to roughly tame her hair with a mean scowl on her face while she tugged firmly on Grace’s tresses with one hand, haphazardly running the straighteners through with the other.

What did the bitch think she was doing? Grace was a child, and Chardonay’s mean behavior made her nervous and wary just before she was due to dance.

“Let her go,” I ordered as I approached.

“Whatever,” Chardonay shrugged, “but it’ll be on you if she looks like shit.”

“Get away from my daughter.” I grabbed onto the back of Grace’s chair like a lioness defending her cub.

Chardonay snatched her purse from the counter and stormed away.

I crouched, wrapped my arms around my girl, and softly kissed her hair. The slight singed smell forced my anger to the surface once more. But I tamped it down.

And with somewhat shaky hands, I began smoothing Grace’s hair into a neat bun, determined that nothing would derail her special day.

Grace was halfway through her routine, and my baby girl was nailing it.

“Is that burning?” I heard somebody exclaim.

“Sure smells like it,” somebody else muttered.

People in the audience began looking around and sniffing, and I realized there was a definite burning smell.

Someone shouted, “Fire,” before the entire room erupted. Chairs clattered to the floor, and panicked screams quickly drowned out the music.

Heart hammering, I glanced briefly at the stage and saw one of the moms corralling the girls into a far corner, but I couldn’t see my baby anywhere.

“Grace,” I yelled, trying to run toward the stage, but the thick crowd of people stampeding to the exit caught me in their huddle, sweeping me toward the exit.

Tommy stood sentry and tried to calm the townsfolk as he and another man steered them safely outside.

Just as I was about to breach the exit, I turned, noting to my horror how the stage had been enveloped in thick, black smoke.

Unable to see Mom or Grace, I screamed, “Grace! Mom!” The pleas tore from my throat as someone grabbed ahold of me. “They’re still on the stage. I’ve got to go back for them.”

I fought with everything I had to break loose from the tight hold.

“I’m on it, Katie,” Tommy yelled.

“Dad and Maria, too,” I urged.

My dad emerged through the studio doors, coughing harshly, holding onto a shell-shocked Maria.

“Mom? Grace?” I implored.

Dad looked at Tommy and gave an almost imperceivable shake of his head.

My legs faltered, and I screamed again. The sound was muted this time, as though I was underwater. Then everything faded to black.