TEENAGER JEANETTE CONNOR WAKES UP IN A STRANGE ROOM, BOUND AND GAGGED. FROM THE END OF CHAPTER 1:
That laugh. It was one I recognized. He moved toward me. “I told you, the cops will think she ran away.” Sherry’s boyfriend Tommy was in the room, too.
Her face grew fuzzy again, as though it were veiled by a piece of chiffon. She said, “Yeah, if we’re lucky. I’m keepin’ my fingers crossed it goes that way, Tommy Boy!”
I wandered through the haze of my mind, wincing at disjointed memories of a horrible fight Mama and I had last November. That was when I realized she would never sign the contract the New York City Ballet had offered me. After that, everything in me faded away until there was nothing left.
I still walked to the bus stop on Clark Street after school every day, then took the bus to the Vaganova Academy on Howard Street, just like I used to. But I only watched the other dancers. My existence became that of a body without a soul. I knew I’d never dance again.
I’d first seen Tommy at the Academy, sitting on my chair in the corner watching the others. He winked and said, “Hey, gorgeous, how about a smile for the new piano player?”
It had been one of those days when I felt more like a robot than a person, but that wasn’t unusual. Since the fight with Mama, I was like that most days. When I was the robot-me, I could shut off my feelings. That was much better than wanting to cry all the time. Tommy used to tease me about having the saddest eyes he’d ever seen, but he never got a rise out of me.
Now both Sherry and Tommy stood there staring at me like I was a piece of meat in the butcher’s case. My eyes darted around the room frantically while the pounding of my heart echoed in my ears. I kept telling myself it was okay because the walking dead aren’t supposed to care about anything. I tried not to be afraid. It didn’t work. I was petrified.
Tiny blood red specks blinked furiously on the dark blanket inside my head, growing larger and larger, until everything turned pitch black.
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