Chapter 1 - The Mirror After Midnight
Ava Mercer made the deal at 12:17 in the morning, barefoot, bleeding through one satin shoe, and furious enough to believe anything.
The studio was supposed to be empty.
The Halcyon Ballet Academy slept around her—six floors of white marble, dark rehearsal rooms, and photographs of dancers who had become famous enough to stop smiling.
Ava stood in Studio C facing the old black-framed mirror no one used anymore.
Tomorrow was the final casting for Swan Lake.
Tomorrow Nora Quinn would probably become Odette.
Nora, who never seemed to want the things Ava wanted badly enough to hate herself for wanting them.
Ava whispered, “I just need one chance.”
The mirror fogged.
There was no steam in the room.
A shape appeared behind her reflection.
Dressed like a man from another century.
Ava spun around.
She looked back.
The man remained inside the glass.
“You don’t want a chance,” he said.
His mouth moved half a second after the words.
“You want the room to forget everyone else.”
Ava’s breath stopped.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who listens when desperate girls stop pretending they’re grateful.”
She should have run.
Instead she asked, “Can you make me better than Nora?”
The thing smiled.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“How much of her do you want?”
The mirror showed Nora rehearsing behind her even though Nora was home asleep.
Nora’s long neck.
Nora’s impossible balance.
Nora’s quiet control.
Ava whispered, “All of it.”
The man raised one pale hand against the inside of the glass.
“Then give me something that belongs only to you.”
“What?”
“Your hunger.”
Ava laughed nervously.
“I already hate it.”
“Exactly.”
The glass rippled.
A black feather slid out of the mirror and landed at her feet.
“Dance with it until the music stops.”
“There’s no music.”
Then the piano began playing by itself.
Then her body changed.
Her ankle stopped hurting.
Her turns sharpened.
Her back lifted.
Her arms became weightless.
For the first time in her life, Ava felt what Nora must feel.
The music ended.
Ava stood panting.
The feather was gone.
The man in the mirror whispered:
“Tomorrow, they will look at you.”
Ava smiled.
Then something moved beneath the skin of her lower stomach.
Once.
May you like
Slowly.
Like a hand turning over in sleep.
