Chapter 9 - THE HIDDEN ROOM BENEATH THE THEATERLila ran through the darkness.
She did not know where she was going.
She only knew that the voice had been real.
Her mother's voice.
She reached the stage.
A single spotlight suddenly came on.
The center of the stage was empty.
But on the floor lay a red ribbon.
Lila picked it up.
A message had been written on the stage.
FOLLOW THE DANCE.
The first movement was marked with chalk.
A step toward the left.
Then a turn.
Then a pause.
Lila understood.
The choreography was a map.
She followed the movements.
One step.
Two.
Three.
At the final position, she pressed her foot against the floor.
A hidden mechanism clicked.
The stage opened.
A staircase descended into darkness.
Lila looked back.
Elise stood at the edge of the stage.
“Don't go alone.”
“You should have told me years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then come.”
Elise nodded.
They descended.
The staircase led far beneath the theater.
This passage was different.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Celeste.
Anya.
Elise.
Marin.
Noah.
And Lila.
Photographs of Lila at three.
At six.
At ten.
At fourteen.
At seventeen.
Someone had been watching her entire life.
Lila stopped.
“Who took these?”
Elise looked at them.
“I don't know.”
Lila turned.
“Don't say that.”
Elise lowered her head.
“I don't know.”
They reached a large iron door.
There was no handle.
Only a small opening.
Lila placed her hand against it.
The door opened.
Inside was a room filled with light.
And someone sitting beside a window.
Lila stopped breathing.
The woman turned.
She was older.
Thinner.
Her hair was streaked with gray.
But the eyes were the same.
Lila's eyes.
Celeste Arden stood slowly.
“Lila.”
Lila could not move.
For three years, she had imagined her mother dead.
She had imagined her face fading.
She had learned to live with the absence.
Now Celeste stood in front of her.
Alive.
Lila's first instinct was to run to her.
Her second was to slap her.
She did both.
She crossed the room.
Slapped Celeste.
Then threw her arms around her.
Celeste held her.
Both of them began to cry.
“You were alive.”
“I know.”
“You were alive.”
“I know.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“I had no choice.”
Lila pulled away.
“You always say that.”
Celeste looked at Elise.
“I see she has learned your favorite sentence.”
Elise looked away.
Lila wiped her face.
“Why?”
Celeste looked at her.
“Because if they knew you knew I was alive, they would come for you.”
“They came anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
Celeste's expression changed.
“The people who built the program.”
“The Bellamys?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
Celeste went silent.
Lila understood.
“Adrian is still part of it.”
“He is more than part of it.”
“What is he?”
Celeste looked toward the wall.
“The last Bellamy.”
Lila stared.
“What?”
“Edmund Bellamy.”
“The man in the photograph.”
Celeste nodded.
“He changed his name.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone believed the Bellamy family had disappeared.”
“But he survived.”
“He built a new identity.”
“Adrian Voss.”
“Yes.”
Lila felt sick.
“He has been working at the theater for decades.”
“He has been controlling it.”
“Victor?”
“His puppet.”
“Why did Victor help him?”
“Because Victor wanted fame.”
“And Adrian?”
“Adrian wanted something else.”
“What?”
Celeste looked at Lila.
“You.”
Lila felt cold.
“Why?”
“Because you are the last piece.”
“The last piece of what?”
Celeste pointed toward a table.
On it were three old notebooks.
The first belonged to Anya.
The second belonged to Celeste.
The third was blank.
Lila stared at it.
Celeste said:
“The final memory.”
Lila frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Celeste took her hand.
“When you were born, I realized something.”
“What?”
“You had memories before you could speak.”
Lila shook her head.
“That's impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
Celeste walked to the table.
“When you were three, you danced a sequence you had never been taught.”
Lila remembered the sensation.
The dark room.
The hand.
The music.
“You were there.”
Celeste nodded.
“Anya was there too.”
“What happened?”
“Adrian found out.”
Lila's face changed.
“And then?”
“He wanted to study you.”
“Study me?”
“Your memory.”
Lila felt disgusted.
“I was a child.”
“That did not matter to him.”
Celeste looked toward the door.
“He believed that the memories of a dancer could be passed through movement.”
“And was he right?”
Celeste looked at her.
“Yes.”
The room became silent.
Lila looked at her own hands.
“What do I remember?”
“Things you have never lived.”
“Like what?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Anya's childhood.”
Lila froze.
“Anya?”
“Some of it.”
“Why?”
“Because she taught you.”
“When?”
“When you were very young.”
Lila felt dizzy.
“Why would she teach me?”
“Because she believed you were the only person who could finish the second finale.”
Lila looked at the blank notebook.
“Why?”
Celeste whispered:
“Because the second finale does not merely reveal a memory.”
“It reveals a person.”
Lila stared.
“Who?”
Celeste looked at the door.
Before she could answer, the room shook.
A loud explosion echoed above them.
Elise turned.
“They found us.”
Celeste grabbed Lila's hand.
“We have to go.”
“Where?”
“To the old theater.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian has already begun the final performance.”
Lila looked at her.
“What performance?”
May you like
Celeste's face was filled with fear.
“The one that will decide whose memories survive.”
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