“My only escape was the dance studio,” said Obscura, and once again Maren found herself identifying with the evil woman. “I spent every day there, working on my technique. I swore I’d find a way to make people appreciate me. Respect me. Love me. When I turned fourteen, I auditioned for all the best ballet schools in the world, and I chose the one that was farthest away from this awful place.”

It wasn’t an awful place, but Maren didn’t want to call attention to herself. If she leaned all the way back, she could almost touch the top edge of the duffel bag. Her fingers grazed the zipper.

“I worked my way up through the school, practicing day and night until I was better than every other girl there.” Shadow Obscura stood at a ballet barre and swept her pointed foot back and forth. “Then I joined the company and worked and worked until I was a soloist, then a principal dancer. A prima ballerina, if you will.” Her shadow swept into a deep curtesy as long-stemmed roses fell all around her. “Finally, everyone loved me. In every city we visited, I was mobbed by adoring fans. My Odette-Odile in Swan Lake brought entire theaters to tears.”

The ballerina turned suddenly, light dancing across her face and glinting unnervingly in her eyes. Maren whipped forward in her chair. Her cheeks hot, her chest heaving, she held up the bottle of squid ink and pretended to read its label.

“That sounds nice,” she said as calmly as possible.

“It was,” said Obscura. “Except that I still kept having that nightmare. You can’t imagine what that kind of horror, night after night, does to you. I tried keeping myself awake, but it was impossible to keep up with a touring schedule without resting. Even for someone as strong as me.”

Shadow Obscura spun on one foot, whipping the other leg to propel her. Around and around she went, until suddenly her bottom leg cracked and bent the wrong way and she fell to the floor. Maren let out a yelp, her eyes darting to the real ballerina, who got up, unharmed, with a ferocious expression on her angular face.

“I shattered my entire knee,” whispered Obscura. “It took a year of surgeries and therapy to recover, and when I came back, the ballet director had given away all of my roles. He said my career was over, and I was a has-been.” Obscura spit the words out like they were poison.

“So what did you do?” Maren asked.

“I came back to Rockpool Bay and met your darling sister.”

Met. Like it was just a casual encounter, not a premeditated, evil scheme. Maren swallowed down the bitter retort on her tongue.

“Then I found my brother and paid him back for what he did to me.”