Chapter 1: The Empty Barre
Audrey had loved ballet since she was little.
Our kitchen in Calder Heights was barely big enough for two people to pass, but she always found room for one more turn, stretching a leg behind her while I made breakfast.
"Audrey, careful! You'll hit the refrigerator!"
"Mom, I have to learn to control my movements!"
Last fall, all that effort paid off. She was accepted into the advanced teen program at a respected studio in Fernwick, fifty minutes away, with a scholarship covering most of the tuition.
The only problem was getting her there and home — three evenings a week, classes ending after eight, both my husband Scott and I working late.
Then, at a Sunday dinner, the solution came from Derek.
Derek had been Scott's best friend since high school. Thirty years. He'd been at our wedding, visited when Audrey was born, come to every birthday. His office was right down the street from the studio.
