Page 40 of Teach Me to Fly

Terry studies her. “I haven’t decided yet. Any ideas?”

She falls silent, picking at a loose thread on her shirt. “What about some sort of assault or betrayal?” She suggests, her voice a little too steady for how loaded the words are.

And instantly, Alec’s name flares in my mind like a lit match to gasoline.

Is that what he did to her? Assault her?

My jaw tightens and I can feel my pulse in my teeth now. Every version of what might’ve happened between them claws through my mind, each darker than the last. I want to be wrong. God, I want to be so fucking wrong. But the way she begged him to stop in her dream, how she won't talk about New York, and how she still flinches when I get too close… it all fits with what I’m thinking. She’s not just running from New York. She’s running from him.

I study her, this girl who used to burn so brightly, now looking like she’s trying to shrink herself out of existence. And all I can think about are the many ways I can make sure Alec never dances again.

No. I’ll make sure he never walks again.

Terry taps his chin, staring off into space. “Yes, that’s good. I’ll see if I can weave something like that into the choreography.”

He pauses and writes a quick note before continuing. “We’ll see Odile as the part of Odette that survived by shutting everything down. She channels all the pain and rage that she feels into seduction like it’s her armour. She’s not trying to deceive the prince, she’s just trying to protect what’s left of her.”

“She’s Odette’s shadow,” Angelique murmurs.

Terry beams. “Exactly. They both want the prince to love them, but he doesn’t realize they’re the same person. He rejects Odette and her vulnerability, and chooses Odile, thinking she’s strong, but that moment fractures her even more.”

I sit forward. “So, the tragedy is internal. She’s not just heartbroken, she’s fragmented?”

“Right,” Terry nods. “Then comes Act Two, The Confrontation.Odile realizes she isn’t her complete self, and she finally sees what she’s done by splitting from Odette. It’s not power, it’s desperation smeared with guilt. She questions herself, and her regret sets in.”

Angelique’s gaze drops to her lap. I can tell this new version of Swan Lake is affecting her, and my curiosity grows tenfold. I want to know what thoughts are swirling around in her mind right now and what memories are plaguing her.

“She tries to undo it,” Terry continues, more softly now, also noticing the change in Angelique and glancing my way for a quick moment, his eyes questioning. “She searches for Odette to try to reconcile. We can throw in a pas de deux here where the two halves meet, and Odile pleads for forgiveness while Odette reaches for her.”

“And then Act Three?” I ask.

Terry straightens. “The Reunion.The prince returns, and he’s changed too. He sees the truth and realizes that hecan’t love only one version of her. He needs to embrace the whole woman. OdetteandOdile.”

He pauses, then adds, “They dance a pas de trois, and the audience will see the surrender and healing. No death and no tragedy, just redemption. And in the ultimate moment, she rises. Whole. Seen. Loved. Yada yada yada.”

The silence between us stretches as Angelique blinks rapidly, her eyes glossy. Her voice is hushed when she finally speaks. “It’s not just a ballet.”

“No,” Terry says, meeting her gaze. “It’s a reckoning.”

“I like it,” I say, sitting up straighter. “But how do we do the pas de deux between Odette and Odile and a pas de trois if Angelique is the one dancing both female roles?”

Terry waves me off. “We have options. We can use projection mapping to show Odile as a shadowed phantom behind Odette for the pas de deux, and if you’re up for it, Angelique, we can reimagine the pas de trois as a solo within a duet.”

“Meaning?” she asks.

“You’d switch between Odette and Odile live, using detachable costume elements and lighting changes,” Terry explains.

“That sounds challenging,” I say, glancing at Angelique, but instead of the fear I was expecting to see there, I see determination.

“Let’s do it,” she says with a finality that sparks excitement in me.

I turn to Terry, giving him my nod of approval, and he grins. “Alright, I’ll get to work, and I should have the updated choreography for you by the end of the week.”

Chapter 13

Angelique

Lando tugs the hood of his sweatshirt tighter around his curls as we walk toward the studio. The morning air is cool, with a stillness that feels like the rest of the world is still asleep. Dew clings to the hedges, and a faint mist hangs over the estate grounds.

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