Chapter 2

“Why are your eyes so red? Are your legs hurting again?”

Noah's voice, as always, was gentle when he hung up the phone.

For a moment, I couldn't tell which was the real him.

“The dance troupe just called, they want me to go over.”

The dance troupe? Weren't you just mocking me with your buddy?

I stared intently at him, trying to find a hint of a lie in his gaze.

He awkwardly tilted his head.

That’s his tell when he’s lying.

“The dance troupe said they could lend me some money so I can pay for your treatment.”

I scoffed.

It was only a few days ago, when the nurse came to urge payment, that I found out many of my treatment fees were overdue.

That's why I couldn't get physical therapy.

When I asked Noah, he looked troubled. “Paying for your legs drained my savings, but don’t worry, I’ll cover the costs even if I have to take out a loan.”

I kept waiting.

Until yesterday, when the doctor gave me the devastating diagnosis: “Missed the optimal treatment window, regaining the ability to stand will be difficult.”

That’s when I understood my life was over; I’d forever be a bird in a cage.

“Okay, you go.”

I lay down, not clinging to him for company as I usually did.

Only after the hospital room door closed did I bury my face and weep.

I sobbed myself into a daze until I fell asleep, only to be woken by the TV news.

It was Skylar.

She had just won another Latin dance competition, surrounded by reporters for interviews.

I saw myself before I was paralyzed: I was always first in every major competition, surrounded by countless reporters, showered with congratulations.

“Skylar, who do you want to thank most for winning this championship?”

“My first love. Thank you for always being there for me, encouraging me, and even buying me my dance outfit!”

“Oh, and it looks like it’s a specially customized haute couture outfit!!”

“Oh, whether it’s haute couture or not isn’t important! But he’s truly wonderful to me! Oh, come on! Don’t be so nosy!”

Skylar’s pretty face flushed slightly, and she happily glanced to the side.

In the corner of the camera, there was a hint of a light blue sleeve.

That was the color of Noah’s shirt today.

I nervously squeezed my hands.

What if it was just a coincidence? What if it was just the same brand?

I called the dance troupe director.

My heart pounded with each ring of the phone.