“Of wonderfulness.” The words slipped out on a breath.

He paused, eyeing me. “Would you care to see it?”

My mouth hung open. “The ballet?”

“Come.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out the door, into the dark corridor, then up narrow steps that led high into the rafters. “The third act will begin presently.” He stopped me in a narrow passage and pushed open a tiny peep that looked down over the lavish royal-blue and ivory auditorium glinting with gold trim and muted gaslights, over the upswept hair and top hats and smartly glittering jewels in the audience.

I’d never seen it this way, so full and alive. “It’s magnificent.”

“I used to watch from up here at times. Just keep quiet and no one will know. And watch out for Delphine’s ghost.” He winked.

“North Wind! Get your sorry hide in here.” The harsh whisper jolted through our quiet moment and the dancer sprang up. I cringed at the way the manager spoke to the stranger who’d been so kind to me, even though this level of rudeness was far too common in theater.

He paused and cocked a half smile, seeming to sense the longing he’d magnified in me. “How’s about this? I’ll put in a word, and we’ll see where it gets you. One day we’ll be dancing together on that stage. I vow it. Keep that focal point as you spin through your days, and don’t stop dancing.” With a salute, he spun in a whirl of sheer organza and crepe but quickly turned back, grabbing the doorframe. “Oh, and keep those shoes close, love. Wouldn’t want anyone else knowing you have ’em.”

Then he was gone, lighting like a gazelle down the stairs.

I stared down at the red shoes in my hands, fingering the perfect stitching along the soles. Enchanted, he’d called them. But as I flexed the tingling hand he’d squeezed, I wondered if maybe it wasn’t the shoes.

Settling noises sounded throughout the auditorium as the intermission melted away, musicians cuing up, then the orchestra eased gently into the third act. Two callboys parted the heavy blue curtain, and I plastered my face against that little peep, my nose pressed into the rough pine-scented wood around it. The music thrummed and so did my heart, matching beat for beat, then the dancers leaped onto the stage from both sides, two by two, trailing flowered ribbons and spinning pirouettes. Color. Beauty. Artistry. Symmetry and grace. My heart unfurled as a blossom in spring.