Like the others, Lindsey had assumed the show would be canceled. She noted, however, that Violet’s posture had changed in the past few minutes. She wasn’t hunched over with sadness anymore. Instead, she was standing tall with her chin tilted up.

“Robbie was taken from us, and the loss of my friend to me and to the theater world is almost too much to bear.” Violet’s voice broke and she paused to collect herself. “But I refuse to cower and crumble from this sick and twisted act of treachery. Robbie and I performed together on some of the greatest stages in the world, and I know that he would not want me to cancel this show. In fact, he will probably haunt me if I do.”

A ripple of muted whispers raced through the room.

“And so, I propose that we put on A Midsummer Night’s Dream for Robbie, in his memory and in his name. We will honor him with the greatest performance of our lives.”

The room erupted into applause and Violet struck a triumphant pose at the front and center of the stage.

Lindsey turned surprised eyes on Nancy and Mary. They did not look as surprised, and Lindsey figured that Violet had already told Nancy her plans. Ian and Sully didn’t look surprised, either, and Lindsey wondered if she was the only one out of the loop.

“Dylan,” Violet addressed the teen sitting next to Beth. “Are you willing to step out of your role as understudy and take on the role of Puck?”

Lindsey saw him turn to Beth with wide eyes as if asking her if he could do it. Beth nodded and he turned back to Violet and said, “Yes, for Mr. Vine, I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent,” Violet said. She beamed at the group and said, “Well, let’s get started. We have a lot of work to do.”

As one, the crowd rose from their seats. There was a dull roar of chatter and it was a moment before one lone voice rang out over the crowd.

“Ms. La Rue,” a man’s voice called repeatedly. “Ms. La Rue!”

Violet turned away from Dylan, who had climbed up onto the stage to stand beside her, and faced the person in the theater.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Is it true, Ms. La Rue, that Robbie Vine was poisoned to death and died right here on this stage?”

15

“Who is that?” Violet asked. She was squinting against the light that was shining onto the stage from the balcony.

“It’s me, your old pal Harvey,” he said. “So, is it true?”

“Harvey Wargus?” she asked. “How did you get in here? This rehearsal is closed to the public, and I thought I made it clear that you are not welcome in my theater.”

“You said Robbie was taken from you,” Harvey continued. “Do you believe the preliminary reports that he was poisoned?”