“No. He was a seventy-four-year-old grandfather of three. I don’t know all the details, because they never arrested anyone, but I’ve been told that it was a drug deal gone wrong. Someone fired shots meant for someone else, and one of the bullets hit the driver in the back of the head. He was killed instantly.”

Quincy gritted his teeth against the bile rising in his throat.

“That’s why I no longer perform,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m good, but not good enough.”

He cradled her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “What do you mean? I saw you dancing like the wind. If the company that had hired you won’t take you back, can’t you work for another dance company?”

“I wish. Dance is all about levels of perfection. My movements are too jerky, and I get pains if I dance for too long. I’ll never dance professionally again.” She held up her index finger with a genuine smile that reached her eyes and said, “But there is a silver lining. I found another passion. Two, actually, that I might not have realized if I had continued down that path. When I used to help teach, it was just a way for me to pay Elisa back for all of the classes I wanted to take. But now that I put my heart and soul into it, I love teaching, helping girls of all ages feel better about themselves and showing them that they can shine no matter what is happening around them. And I found that I love children, too. Before the accident, I never had a chance to slow down and think about kids or having a family of my own one day. Children were never part of my life outside of helping to teach here at the studio, and like I said, I didn’t think about whether I was enjoying them. I was filling a commitment. But remember the little redhead in Kennedy’s class who was leaning against the wall the other night?”

“Yeah. She was a cutie.”

“She is. She’s a doll. Her name is Dottie, and believe it or not, standing against the wall is a big improvement for her. Her mom put her into my class to try to get her to come out of her shell because she’s painfully shy. The first few classes, she sat on the floor huddled with her arms around her legs, peeking at the other girls. She wouldn’t even look me in the eye. But now we’re connecting. She’s getting there, and it’ll take time, but it feels good to know that through dance and music, she’s making strides. I never would have found that type of fulfillment if I’d continued dancing professionally.”

“That’s great, babe. But you worked so hard. You gave up your childhood to be the best, to dance alone onstage and tell stories through your movements. I don’t understand how you can walk away from that dream. Is it all or nothing in that industry? Do you have to dance with the best? Can’t you perform with a smaller group? Start your own solo dance company?”