The memory struck so hard that she nearly cried out.
Marcus leaned down beside her.
“Stop this.”
She turned slowly.
“You were there.”
“Avery, listen to me.”
“You were in that room.”
His voice became softer.
“You’re overwhelmed.”
“I asked you about money.”
Marcus looked toward the audience.
“This isn’t the place.”
Avery suddenly remembered another sentence.
One she had said.
Not tonight.
Not here.
Months ago.
“If you moved money from the foundation, I’ll find it.”
Marcus had answered.
“You have no idea what you’re accusing me of.”
The room inside her memory changed.
Rain against windows.
Avery leaving the rehearsal building.
Marcus following.
An argument inside the theater the next evening.
The balcony.
His hand around her wrist.
Avery opened her eyes.
Her breathing became shallow.
Theo stood from the piano.
“Miss Sloane?”
Marcus crouched beside her.
“You’re having a panic attack.”
“No.”
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“I’ll take you backstage.”
He reached for the wheelchair handles.
Avery locked the wheels.
“No.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“You don’t know what you’re remembering.”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“I remember you grabbing my arm.”
His face went still.
“You were upset.”
“Where?”
Marcus didn’t answer.
“Where were we?”
“Avery—”
“Where?”
His silence gave her the answer.
The balcony.
Avery looked toward Theo.
“Why did your mother keep the key?”
“Because you gave it to her the morning before you fell.”
Theo swallowed.
“You said if something happened, she should never give it to Mr. Vale.”
Avery felt the entire hall disappear around her.
Marcus stood.
“This is ridiculous.”
Theo continued.
“My mom was scared. After your accident, a man came to our apartment asking about the key. She sent me to live with my aunt.”
Marcus pointed toward security.
“Get him out now.”
Nobody moved.
Avery looked toward the foundation’s attorney sitting in the front row.
“Elena.”
The woman slowly stood.
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow morning, I want every foundation account frozen pending an independent audit.”
Marcus laughed nervously.
“You can’t freeze accounts because of a child’s story.”
Avery looked at him.
“I’m not.”
She lifted the metronome from her lap.
“I’m doing it because I remember signing the original scholarship ledgers myself.”
Marcus’s face lost its color.
“And because I remember finding transfers I never authorized.”
Cameras flashed.
Marcus looked toward the exits.
Then Avery felt something.
So small she thought she had imagined it.
A pressure beneath her right foot.
She stopped speaking.
Theo noticed.
“What is it?”
Avery looked down.
Her feet were hidden beneath the long fabric of her dress.
For fourteen months she had stared at those legs and demanded they move.
Nothing.
Every morning.
Every rehabilitation session.
Every sleepless night.
Move.
Nothing.
But now she had felt something.
Not movement exactly.
Pressure.
Theo came closer.
“Are you okay?”
Avery whispered.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus took another step backward.
No one watched him anymore.
Everyone watched Avery.
Theo looked at the grand piano.
Then at her.
“Four notes.”
She frowned.
“What?”
He smiled through his tears.
“You told me not to think about the fifth one.”
Avery almost laughed.
“That was advice for piano.”
“Maybe it works for other things.”
She looked at her right leg.
Move.
Nothing.
Her heart sank.
Theo crouched beside the wheelchair.
“Don’t try to stand.”
“I’m not.”
“Just one thing.”
“What?”
“Tap the beat.”
Avery stared at him.
Theo lifted his hand and quietly counted.
“One.”
Avery imagined the first piano note.
“Two.”
The second.
“Three.”
The third.
“Four.”
The fourth.
Something moved beneath the fabric.
Several people gasped.
Avery froze.
Theo’s eyes widened.
“Again.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Avery, don’t.”
She didn’t even look at him.
Theo counted.
“One.”
Avery concentrated.
“Two.”
Heat rushed down her leg.
“Three.”
Her ankle trembled.
“Four.”
Her right foot moved.
Less than an inch.
But it moved.
A sound escaped Avery’s throat that was somewhere between laughter and a sob.
The entire audience rose.
Applause exploded through the theater.
Avery didn’t hear it.
She only saw Theo.
The boy was crying openly now.
“You did it.”
“No,” she whispered.
She looked toward the piano.
“We played the fifth note.”
Theo smiled.
Behind them, two security officers approached Marcus.
This time they weren’t responding to his instructions.
Elena, the attorney, stood beside them.
“Mr. Vale,” she said, “I think you should remain here until we clarify a few things.”
Marcus stared at Avery.
“You believe him?”
Avery looked at the man who had controlled every missing piece of her life for more than a year.
“No.”
Marcus seemed almost relieved.
Then she continued.
“I believe myself.”
His expression changed.
Avery turned toward Theo.
“Your mother. Is she safe?”
He nodded.
“She’s outside.”
“Outside?”
Theo gave a nervous smile.
“She didn’t think they’d let us both in.”
For the first time that night, Avery laughed.
Not the careful laugh she used for interviews.
Not the polite laugh photographers expected.
A real one.
“Bring her in.”
Theo started toward the stairs.
Then he stopped.
“Miss Sloane?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember me now?”
Avery looked at the small boy who had walked into a room full of powerful strangers carrying nothing but an old metronome and a promise.
She remembered the yellow rehearsal room.
The broken piano.
The paper cups of soup.
A frightened child staring at four keys.
And herself sitting beside him.
She smiled.
“Yes, Theo.”
His face brightened.
Avery touched the wooden metronome.
“And I remember what comes after four.”
Theo smiled back.
“The fifth note.”
Avery shook her head.
“No.”
She looked down at her foot.
Then toward the piano.
“Whatever comes next.”