Page 82 of Devil's Thirst

To ever.

Be loved.

I crawl to my bed and summon enough strength to climb up and under the covers.

I get Freya to join me. If my suspicions are right, Sante won’t be back.

Sorrow holds me in her suffocating embrace for hours before I finally succumb to sleep. I think I fought against the reprieve ofoblivion because of a foolish refusal to cling to one last spark of hope that Sante would come back, but it never happens.

I wake at sunrise to find Freya and I are still alone.

Being right has never felt so devastatingly awful.

“At least I have you, girl,” I whisper to my sweet puppy.

She licks my face, and somehow, it makes me feel the tiniest bit better. I know she needs to potty. I’d probably stay in bed all day if it weren't for her. Instead, I force myself to take her for a short walk. It’s enough to get my blood flowing and my thoughts focused.

Today is my big opening night. My debut in a principal role with the National Ballet Theater. I have spent my life dreaming of this sort of accomplishment and refuse to let him or anyone else steal it from me. My heart may be broken, but that does not have to prevent me from dancing.

By the time we get back upstairs, I’ve embraced a newfound determination to quit being a victim. I may be hurting inside—I may feel like crumbling—but I have the strength to persevere. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again.

I am a survivor.

Me:You up?

Lina: Unfortunately, why?

Me: I’m coming up.

“Come on, girl. Let’s pack our things. I think it’s time for a change of scenery.” Time for a number of changes.

I gather Freya’s bowls and food since she’ll need to stay with Lina while I’m at the theater. It’ll be a long day, and I hate to leave her alone. Plus, it’s a good chance for her to make friends with Violet. I also pack an overnight bag for me. I won’t bedone until late, and I’d prefer not to come back here. Too many painful reminders.

“Lina’s going to think we’re moving in,” I mutter as I grapple with a rolling suitcase, the dog, and her giant bed. I want Freya to be as comfortable as possible after uprooting her yet again.

When Lina opens her front door, her eyes widen as she takes in the chaotic mess in front of her. I was feeling so inspired that I’m still in the clothes I slept in from yesterday and haven’t even brushed my hair. I may even have vomit on my shirt. Anything’s possible at this point.

“You have a dog,” she finally manages.

I give her a small smile. “This is Freya, and a lot’s gone on in the last twenty-four hours. Mind if we come in?”

“Puppy!” Violet comes running around the corner, startling Lina into action. She swoops up her daughter and gives Freya a wary glance.

“Sorry. Come on in. You just surprised me.” She relieves me of the dog bed and deposits it by the door. “Are you staying with us?”

“I thought I might tonight. I kind of need Freya to hang out here today and thought it’d be easier to crash here after the performance.”

“Of course, yeah. That works.” She stands, hands on her hips, still taking everything in. “So this is … Freya?” she asks. Violet strains toward the floor, wanting to get closer to Freya.

“Yeah, she’s a personal protection dog, but she’s super sweet. We got her yesterday. Picked her out especially because she was raised with little kids around unlike most of the other dogs.”

Lina looks even more guarded as she studies the large shepherd. I dig around in the suitcase and pull out the muzzle Cartwright gave us. The dogs are trained to wear them, so the apparatus doesn’t bother her.

“We’ll definitely use this until everyone is comfortable with one another. Or indefinitely, if that’s best.” I totally understand her concerns. A mother should absolutely want to protect her child.

My sister takes a relieved breath. “Thank you. She’s a gorgeous dog.” She puts her hand forward and lets Freya sniff her, then lets a still-straining Violet get her hand sniffed.

“She’s so well behaved, and I feel safe having her with me. I wish I’d thought of it before.”

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