We spent the day touring the school and the building where I’d work.
Bright studios, kids stretching, teachers smiling.
The job wasn’t glamorous—but it was steady.
One place. Not two.
That night, after Lily fell asleep, my mom and I read every line of the contract.
Waiting for a catch that never came.
That was a year ago.
I still wake up early. Still smell like cleaning supplies.
But I make it to every class. Every recital.
Lily dances harder than ever.
And sometimes, when I watch her, I swear I can feel Emma clapping for us.
