Blood bloomed instantly on my white sock—a stark, spreading crimson stain.
I reached into the shoe. My fingers brushed against cold metal.
Two thumbtacks. Points facing up. Positioned to drive deep into the sole of my foot.
Under normal circumstances, I would have checked. Every dancer checks. But today, with my head throbbing and my vision swimming, I had been careless.
"What happened?"
Julian walked over, drawn by the commotion. He was tasked with props and stage design tonight.
His eyes flicked to the blood on my foot. Then to the tacks in my hand.
A sneer curled his lip.
"Penelope Norris. You really are willing to pay in blood just to keep Madison off the stage."
I stared at him. My mind reeled. "What did you say?"
"Pulling a stunt like this right before curtain call? Trying to frame someone?" He shook his head, disgust radiating from every pore. "Don't think I don't see through you. You put those tacks there yourself to garner sympathy. Well, if you don't want to dance that badly, then don't."
He turned to Madison, waiting in the wings.
Conveniently dressed in a substitute costume. Her face a mask of feigned worry.
"Julian... Penelope is bleeding. She can't dance like this. Maybe... maybe I should take her place? We can't keep the leaders waiting."
Julian nodded, waving his hand dismissively. "Fine. Madison, you're on."
He pointed a commanding finger at me. "Take off the costume. Let Madison wear it. It was tailored to you, so it might be loose on her, but we have no choice. Hurry up. Don't waste time."
I gripped the hem of my tunic.
I had altered this outfit myself. Stitch by agonizing stitch.
It was mine.
Seeing I wasn't moving, Julian stepped forward and grabbed my collar.
"Penelope! Have some sense of duty! Take it off! Stop holding everyone back!"
*Rip.*
He yanked hard, tearing one of the frog buttons from the collar.
Adrenaline surged. I shoved Julian away with everything I had left.
He wasn't expecting it. He stumbled back, crashing into a makeup table. Bottles clattered to the floor.
"What are you doing?!" he roared, his face flushing with embarrassed rage.
I ignored him.
Expressionless, I bent down and pulled the tacks out of the shoe.
Fresh blood stained my fingertips.
I shoved my foot back into the shoe.
Pulled the straps tight, binding the wound, trapping the pain.
Every movement sent fire shooting up my leg. But the coldness in my heart numbed everything else.
"The costume is mine. The role is mine." My voice was dead calm. "As long as I have breath in my body, no one else takes this stage."
I shoved past Madison and strode toward the wings.
The heavy velvet curtain parted. The lights blazed.
Fighting the vertigo and the searing pain in my foot, I danced. The most flawless performance of *The White-Haired Girl* of my life.
Spin. Leap. Land.
Every step was like dancing on knife blades.
But I smiled. Brighter than I ever had.
I was dancing to mourn the love I had foolishly fed to the dogs.
The final pose. I froze, statuesque.
Thunderous applause erupted, shaking the hall.
The curtain fell. The adrenaline crashed.
My vision went black, and I collapsed onto the floorboards.
Behind me, a trail of bloody footprints marked my path.
Through the haze, I heard a distant shout.
"Penelope's down! Get a medic!"
When I woke, the world was shaking. I was lying in the bed of a military truck.
Outside, thunder cracked, merging with the roar of heavy rain. The convoy was withdrawing from the performance site, heading back to the garrison.
"You awake?"
A colleague sitting nearby handed me a canteen.
I took a sip, my eyes scanning the truck.
Julian wasn't there.
The colleague saw me looking. He curled his lip, pointing toward the truck behind us.
"He's in the rear vehicle. Madison was crying her eyes out because she didn't get to perform. Team Leader Henson is back there comforting her."
I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cold metal slats.
Suddenly, the truck lurched violently.
Tires screeched—a piercing, terrible sound—followed by the sickening crunch of metal.
And screams of terror.
"Mudslide! The road ahead is gone!"
"Abandon the truck! Get to higher ground! Move!"
The truck bed erupted into chaos. Soldiers scrambled over the sides, boots slipping on wet metal, desperate to outrun the mountain coming down behind them.
My injured leg buckled with every step. The fresh gash on my forehead sent the world tilting sideways. I was half a beat too slow. By the time my boots hit the ground, muddy floodwater was already swirling around my calves, hungry and rising.
Not far away, Julian had Madison on his back. He was sprinting toward the ridge, sure-footed, never looking back. She clung to him like a second skin, her screams piercing through the roar of the storm.
"Don't be afraid." His voice was breathless but tender, infuriatingly gentle. "I've got you. You're safe with me."
"Julian!" My voice cracked, raw against the wind.
My bad leg betrayed me. The mud shifted, and I went down hard, plunging into the water. The flood surged instantly, icy and relentless, rising past my waist in seconds.
He stopped.
He looked back.
For one heartbeat—one agonizing, flickering moment—hesitation crossed his face. His body turned, almost like he might come for me.
"Julian!" Madison shrieked against his ear, burying her face in his neck. "The water—it's rising! I'm scared! Help me! *Save me!*"
The hesitation died.
His jaw hardened. Something cold slid behind his eyes, and when he shouted, it wasn't concern in his voice.
It was dismissal.
"Penelope! You know how to swim! Climb up yourself!"
"Madison is terrified—she can't handle the shock. I have to get her to safety first!"
He didn't wait for a response. Didn't spare another glance.
He charged toward the high ground with Madison safe on his back, and I watched him disappear into the grey curtain of rain.
The storm lashed against my face. I couldn't tell anymore—where the rain ended and where my tears began.
*Rumble...*
The mountain screamed.
A deafening roar tore through the air as the mudslide came crashing down, carrying boulders the size of cars. The ground trembled beneath me.
Despair closed around my throat. I shut my eyes.
