Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 46

Some things–once you stop, you can never truly start again.

Emma had lost count of how many times she’d fallen, but no matter how hard she tried, she could never spin and leap the way she used to.

This time, when her body hit the ground again, a wave of pain crashed over her. She lay there, pressed against the floor, sweat and tears streaming down her face, blurring together until she couldn’t tell one from the other.

Finally, she let go.

Emma, it’s impossible. The doctors said so five years ago–after what happened, you’d never dance again. And now, after all this time, your body’s stiff as a board. How could you possibly soar again?

Suddenly, she sensed someone outside.

She lifted her head and, through the floor–to–ceiling window, saw her grandmother standing beside a man–Sebastian?

Why would Grandma be with him?

Had they seen her like this, sprawled out and broken?

A rush of panic flooded her.

“She used to dance, you know. But now she’s a cripple. What’s the difference between that and being useless?”

“What can you even help with? You can’t go out and socialize. Even serving tea at home–who knows if you’ll spill it? Theo, here’s your water… like this? No, like this? Is this right?”

“Theo, Theo, Theo, have some water–whoops, spilled again–Theo, can you pick me up-”

Those taunting voices from Theodore’s friends echoed in her ears, haunting and relentless. Emma scrambled to the window, half crawling, half dragging herself to yank the curtains closed, then pressed her back against them, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

“Emmie? Emmie?”

Grandma’s voice called from the hallway.

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Chapter 46

“No! Grandma, please–don’t come in! I’m begging you, don’t!” She fought to keep the tremor out of her voice, but the tears came anyway, unstoppable as a flood.

She couldn’t–wouldn’t–let Grandma see her broken like this. And she definitely couldn’t let a stranger witness her shame.

But fate never cared for her wishes.

The door opened from the outside.

Sunlight spilled in, stretching the shadow of the person in the doorway long and thin across the floor.

Sebastian.

Emma sat on the ground, shaking her head as she backed away, tears streaking her cheeks. “Don’t come any closer! Just go! Get out! Please, just go!”

But Sebastian didn’t leave.

Instead, he strode toward her, stopping right in front of her. He set his phone on the floor, then offered her his hand.

“What do you want? Get out!” Instinctively, Emma hugged her shoulders, curling into herself, every muscle tensed.

Sebastian said nothing. He simply lifted her up–gently, but firmly. At the same moment, his phone began to play music: “Metamorphosis.”

Her body remembered, even if her mind doubted. With his support, she found herself moving–limbs stretching, arms and legs gliding through the air like wings.

“Metamorphosis“-a pas de deux, the routine that had once won her a prize at school.

Her feet weren’t the same, but the movements were forever etched in her muscles. She could never forget.

With Sebastian holding her, somehow–clumsy and halting as it was–they finished the dance. The steps weren’t right, there were mistakes everywhere, but for the first time in five years, she’d made it to the end.

When the music faded, Emma stood in the center of the studio, dazed as if in a dream.

“Emma, dancing is a state of mind,” Sebastian said, standing in front of her, eyes shining. “If you want to dance, you can fly.”

The words rang familiar.

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Chapter 46

Emma finally remembered. Back when “Metamorphosis” was new, she’d had a partner–a younger student who could never quite get the lifts right, who once dropped her during practice. She’d found him sulking under a tree and told him these very words.

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