Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Juniper nodded, and Allie strode past me without looking my direction, heading into the foyer.
“Aunt Eva stole Aunt Allie’s part in the ballet that was created for her,” Juniper whispered as she sat next to her bag.
“I know that, but how do you know that?” I’d been careful not to say anything to her.
“Because Eva posted a Seconds yesterday with Aunt Allie saying she couldn’t do a bunch of choreography yet that looked . . .” She wrinkled her nose.
“Yes?” Shit, was I actually going to have to download that app to know what was going on around here?
“It looked like Eva hid the camera,” Juniper whispered. “And then she posted this morning that Allie wasn’t getting better, and she’d been hired as a principal for next season, so I looked at the website.” She kicked off her sandals and reached into her bag. “No one jumps from corps to principal. He had to have given it to her just because she’s Allie’s sister and he felt bad since the ballet was created for her.”
So that’s how Eva got the part. What a wretch.
“Right. Wait here, kiddo.” I left Juniper in the studio and headed into the living room. “You okay?” I asked Anne, who sat on the floor in front of the paper-strewn table, Sadie asleep beside her.
“Yep, just going through three decades of paperwork, hoping my mother kept anything pertaining to Juniper’s adoption.” She moved a manila envelope to a stack on the floor. “And don’t ask me why I’m not in the office. As I’ve told Allie a dozen times, it still feels like our father’s. Not like Mom used it, either, since half this crap was stuffed into boxes in her closet.”
“And you’re looking for the paperwork because . . .” I lifted my eyebrows at her.
“Because Juniper wants to know who her father is.” She dropped another folder on the stack with a thud. “And I have the Classic completely planned, so no current job to do, not that I got to do the job I went to school for, because after all, I was supposed to be using all my energy to get pregnant.”
And we have another Rousseau sister down. Shit.
“And I have one sister out there stealing the other one’s parts, changing the password to their joint Seconds account so Allie can’t take the video down, and won’t pick up the damned phone for me,” Anne continued. “And another who couldn’t get out of bed for two days, and now is back to putting herself into an early grave chasing something she never really wanted in the first place just because our mother told her to.” She held up a finger. “And don’t get me started on my mother guarding Lina’s secrets like she’s the only person who mattered.”
Allie couldn’t get out of—
“Wait.” My hands curled at my sides. “Your mother knew about Juniper?”
“We’re pretty sure, though it’s not like she’ll talk to us about it. I went to see her again yesterday and got nowhere.” Thunk. Another envelope hit the stack. “She’s busy”—she winced—“teaching. Can’t be bothered with me.”
“That’s . . . unfortunate.” A pit in my stomach opened, and I breathed through the immediate sensation of panic that belonged to a younger version of myself. I was going to have to set some shit straight with Mrs. Rousseau if I wanted a real chance with Allie.
“So instead of sitting around completely useless while Kenna rehabs Allie’s ankle, and Eva burns our family to the ground over her ego, I’m going to make someone happy, which means finding a copy of the adoption paperwork so I can tell Juniper who her biological father is.” Thunk. The files slid, cascading in a paperwork avalanche. “Shit!” Anne snapped, throwing a finger at me when I reached for the papers. “Don’t try to help me.”
Sadie perked up her ears, then decided sleep was more important.
“Heard.” I reached over to pet the pup, then continued through the living room into the kitchen, looking for Allie. Kenna sat on the counter, scrolling through her phone, taking bites off a carrot stick.
“Yeah, it’s a real shit show around here,” she noted without looking up.
“Seems like it.” I peered into the dining room, but there was no trace of Allie. “Allie couldn’t get out of bed?” Why the hell was I hearing that from other people?
“If a video trashing your reputation went viral with over a million hits, spawning countless stitches and commentary from every wannabe ballerina to contract lawyers, critics, and armchair experts who’ve never met you or even watched ballet before, would you feel like facing the world?”
Fuck. “No one told me.” Dinner curdled in my stomach. “She shut the door in my face after we got back from camping. Why didn’t she return any of my calls? Better yet, why didn’t either of you reach out? I would have been here.”