Prologue
Five years ago
Michael
I see the first rays of light shine through the window of my house. The room feels wrong somehow, and I turn to find the other side of the bed empty. I touch the sheets, and they're cold. She's been gone a while, then.
I'm not overly concerned because it's a work day. Last night we made love and I told her how I felt about her.
I desperately need some coffee in me, so I put on some jogging pants and a t-shirt. The other rooms are all still dark and I move through the house by memory alone. The coffeemaker is ready togo, so I turn it on. I make sure to leave it ready every night before I go to bed.
That's when I see it—a small, cream envelope with Mandy's writing on the outside. Dread fills me. Things have been feeling off lately.
She's been more skittish and antsy than ever but won't tell me why. Mandy is a bright, shining human being who is meant to succeed in the world of theater or even the movies. Not an easy feat for someone born and bred in a little town like Woodland Falls.
I'm terrified of reading that letter, but I need to know what I'm in for. I take the envelope in my hands, the crisp paper wrinkling when I grab it too tight. I put it back suddenly on the counter and back off. She's left me, I know it. She's gone.
I stand in front of the counter, the letter staring at me accusingly. I text 911 to my brother Ben. He'll know what to do. I wait and wait until the door opens. Ben lets himself and the cold air in. I shiver and my arms look like a plucked chicken with so many goosebumps.
"Where's Mandy?" Ben asks in a soft tone.
I can't take my eyes away from the envelope. He sees it and stands on the opposite side of the counter. Of all my brothers, I'm closest to Ben, even though he's the oldest.
The letter stands between us, and it's all I can do to keep myself from falling apart.
Ben reaches for the envelope and takes out the contents. Something heavy drops out. It’s the key to the house. Now I know she's gone forever.
"She's gone, brother, and I don't think she's coming back," I say.
Ben grips my shoulders for support, but the love of my life is gone, and there's nothing I can do about it.
It takes me a long time to get up the courage to read the letter. She wants more out of life and she can't get it here in Woodland Falls.
I always knew it deep down, but my heart was full of hope and love for Mandy Schmidt and our future together. After I've read it for the hundredth time, I place the letter back into the envelope and stash it in one of my home office drawers.
How do I manage to forgive and forget the woman who tore my heart into pieces?
Chapter 1
Present Day
Mandy
It's late. My door is bolted, but I still hear every little sound the night brings around. There's noise from the street, but the most upsetting is the sound from my neighbors. This is a bad neighborhood, but it’s all I can afford now.
There's gambling on one floor, drug dealing on another, and the third floor is where the suspicious sounds are coming from. I can't stop shaking. Normally, at night, I'll stack furniture against my front door. Now I've just got to wait until morning comes before I can sleep.
I have a class for young ballerinas in the afternoon, but I'll be able to get some sleep in the morning hours. I love teaching that class, and it pays some of the bills.
I have so many regrets about leaving my hometown and coming to New York to make it big. Getting in debt with the wrong person is one of the biggest ones. Now I live almost every minute of my day in fear, and there's no prince charming coming my way to save me.
I serve myself a cup of coffee so that I don't fall asleep and sit down on my nest of sheets and pillows on the sofa. I can survive another night.
I wake up around ten in the morning and my eyes immediately search the perimeter. Everything is in place, so no one tried to get inside. I breathe a sigh of relief and then get up and go to the bathroom for a quick shower. I made it another night in this wretched place.
When it's time to go to class, I get ready and hurry to the community center where my students will be waiting. The class is full of happy little girls and, thankfully, no extreme dance moms. Time goes by really fast and I wonder if I can arrange for another group of children to participate. I won't be able to charge for it, though.
The community center is already paying me more than they can afford. I don't mind donating my time. It's for a good cause, after all.