𝟏𝟑 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎

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ME AND BELLA WALKED QUICKLY THROUGH THE LOBBY, SCANNING EVERY FACE, EVERY SHADOW

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ME AND BELLA WALKED QUICKLY THROUGH THE LOBBY, SCANNING EVERY FACE, EVERY SHADOW. No sign of Zane or Alice. Then we saw them outside under the porte-cochère, loading the Mercedes, deep in discussion.

Without a word, Bella caught my eye. We slipped out the opposite door, our steps echoing in sync.

Outside, the air was heavy. We rushed toward the curb, waving down the first taxi we saw. It screeched to a stop, and we dove in.

The driver was an elderly woman with a soft hacking cough, her hands trembling on the wheel.

"Eighth and Palo Verde, please," Bella said quickly.

The taxi pulled out. Through the window, the hotel shrank into the distance, disappearing behind the trees.

I stared after it, my reflection faint in the glass. I never used to think much about dying... but now, the thought didn't scare me the same way. Maybe because it all led me to him.

When we arrived, the cab rolled to a stop in front of a deserted building Mimi's School of Dance. The place looked untouched for years. The wind carried dust across the cracked steps.

Bella twisted her mother's ring around her finger, her breath shallow. I gripped the pepper spray in my pocket, my heart hammering.

I can't regret any of it. Every choice, every danger... brought me to Jasper.

We walked toward the entrance. The glass doors creaked when Bella pushed them open.

Inside, the place smelled of dust and echoing memories. Wooden floors. Rows of mirrors. Faded pink barres along the walls.

Then a sound.

"Bella? Bella?"

It was her mother's voice faint, distant, but calling.

We froze, eyes wide.

"It's coming from in there," Bella whispered, pointing to the hallway.

We followed the voice until we reached a small cleaning closet. Bella flung the door open

A TV screen flickered inside, playing a home video. On it: a little girl with brown hair and two left feet. Bella at seven years old.

"Don't you want to dance, baby?" her mom's voice asked.

Little Bella shook her head. "Everyone makes fun of me."

Her mother laughed softly. "But you're wonderful, sweetheart."

Bella's lip trembled. "Mom, I suck."

Laughter echoed but this time, it wasn't from the video.

It was behind us.

We spun around, and his voice came from everywhere soft, mocking. "That's my favorite part. Stubborn child, weren't you?"

James.

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