Unwritten Steps

The Basement Escape

The basement wasn't glamorous, but for Aurora Carter, it was freedom. A small crack in the walls of her carefully controlled world. The faded concrete floor was cold against her feet as she adjusted her hoodie, pushing back loose strands of dark curls. Music pulsed through her phone speakers, a mix of bass and beats that matched her heartbeat.

"Okay, Aurora," she muttered, shaking out her arms. "You've got this."

She started the routine again, her body moving with the rhythm. Dancing wasn't just a hobby; it was her lifeline. A way to fight through the chaos of foster homes, emotional scars, and Wanda's endless demands.

Wanda's voice cut through the music. "Aurora! Dinner!"

Aurora froze mid-spin, biting back a groan. She glanced at the mirror leaning precariously against the wall. Her reflection stared back, frustration written in every angle of her face.

"Coming!" she yelled, stopping the music and grabbing her phone.

Upstairs, Wanda was already at the table, scrolling through her phone. The smell of overcooked spaghetti filled the kitchen, and Aurora's stomach churned—not from hunger, but from the tension.

"I asked you to sweep the hallway," Wanda said without looking up.

"I was practicing," Aurora replied, sitting down.

"Practicing for what? You think dancing is going to pay the bills?"

Aurora clenched her fork. She knew better than to argue. Wanda never understood why dancing mattered to her. It wasn't just about routines or auditions—it was about proving she could be more than what people expected.

Later that night, as she lay on her mattress scrolling through her phone, a notification popped up from Rachel.

Rachel: Showcase auditions are next month! You ready?

Aurora stared at the screen, her chest tightening. She wanted to be ready. She needed to be.