Her eyes searched the rows like emergency signals.
For a moment, she couldn’t find me.
I saw panic flicker across her face—that tight line her mouth makes when she’s holding back tears.
Then her gaze jumped to the back and locked onto mine.
I raised my hand, dirty sleeve and all.
Her whole body relaxed, like she could finally breathe.
She danced like the stage belonged to her.
Was she perfect?
No.
She wobbled, turned the wrong way once, looked at the girl beside her for cues.
But her smile grew every time she spun, and I swear I felt my heart trying to clap its way out of my chest.
When they bowed, I was already half crying.
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