17. Maggie #2
He exhales softly, clearly suffering greatly, and lifts one hand in a restrained wave.
Ivy lights up from the stage, earning amused laughter from several nearby parents.
“There,” Alexei says, lowering his hand. “Satisfied?”
“Very.”
“I maintain eye contact was sufficient,” he insists.
“Bless your heart.”
Several routines later, I notice Alexei checking his phone again.
My smile fades. This has to be the sixth time since we arrived.
I lean closer. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
His attention moves from the screen back toward the stage. “I’m working.”
“You’re always working,” I point out.
“So I've been told.”
I study him quietly, taking in the hard line of his mouth, the faint shadows beneath his eyes, and the tension still visible in his broad shoulders despite the ordinary setting around us.
Something happened this morning. I know it. I just don't know what.
Before I can ask questions, the music changes, and Ivy's class takes the stage again. Every worry disappears as soon as I see her beneath the stage lights. She dances beautifully. Not perfectly, because she's six, but beautifully nonetheless.
She misses one step, nearly collides with another little girl, then recovers with such determination that tears sting my eyes.
Beside me, Alexei watches our daughter with an expression so full of pride it nearly undoes me.
Our daughter.
The thought arrives unexpectedly. I don't correct it. Maybe some truths no longer need correcting.
The final number ends to enthusiastic applause throughout the auditorium. Children burst into motion while teachers begin organizing dismissal. Parents rise from their seats, gathering purses, jackets, and younger siblings.
The ordinary noise of family life returns all around us. For a few precious moments, everything feels safe.
The final applause has barely faded before chaos begins.
At first, it feels ordinary. Children pour out of the backstage doors in noisy waves while parents crowd the aisles collecting dance bags, water bottles, and forgotten sweaters.
Teachers attempt to organize dismissal while answering questions from a dozen directions at once.
The entire auditorium buzzes with the madness that follows any event involving small children.
Normal dance rehearsal mayhem.
I see Ivy in the crowd. She's running toward us with Sophie beside her, both girls flushed with excitement and still wearing matching sparkly headbands.
“Maggie!” Ivy squeals.
She launches herself at me hard enough to nearly knock me backward. Laughing, I catch her against my chest and hug her tightly before putting her down.
“Miss Hannah said I remembered all my turns,” she announces proudly.
“You absolutely did.” I adjust her sparkly headband. “You were amazin’.”
“I only forgot one thing.”
“Baby, everybody forgets things sometimes.”
“No.” Ivy shakes her head with complete seriousness. “It's because Sophie distracted me.”
Beside her, Sophie gasps. “I did not.”
“You did too.”
“I was sneezing,” Sophie insists, folding her arms.
“You sneezed during my turn,” Ivy says.
“Sophie,” Sophie's father says with an amused smile as he approaches. “Time to go.”
Sophie gives Ivy a quick hug. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Ivy says, waving enthusiastically as her friend disappears into the crowd.
Alexei reaches down and lifts Ivy effortlessly into his arms. She immediately wraps both arms around his neck.
“You danced beautifully,” he tells her.
Ivy beams so brightly I'm surprised the auditorium lights don't surrender.
Nearby, Luka speaks quietly into his earpiece while one of the plainclothes guards moves toward the lobby entrance.
“Can Sophie come over again?” Ivy asks, looking hopefully between Alexei and me.
“We'll discuss it later,” Alexei tells her.
She narrows her eyes. “That's grown-up language for maybe.”
I grin. “You've become entirely too smart.”
Alexei's hand finds mine as we begin making our way toward the lobby with the rest of the crowd. Families surround us. Children dart between adults carrying bouquets nearly as large as they are while parents compare recital schedules and discuss summer vacation plans.
For a few precious minutes, everything feels ordinary. Wonderfully safe. Then somebody screams.
The sound slices through the crowded lobby so sharply that every conversation stops.
“My son!” a woman cries somewhere near the front entrance. Her voice cracks with panic. “Has anybody seen my son?”
Immediately, another voice joins hers.
“Emma?” a man shouts frantically from somewhere deeper in the crowd. “Emma!”
Panic spreads through the lobby with frightening speed. Parents begin calling out names while teachers hurry toward the entrance, trying to make sense of what happened. Around us, children start crying as fear ripples through the crowd.
I instinctively move closer to Alexei. “What happened?”
Luka is already moving. His entire body changes in an instant. The relaxed posture disappears. His expression hardens, and one hand rises to his earpiece.
“Boss,” he says sharply.
Everything happens at once.
Alexei transfers Ivy higher against his chest and turns, placing his body between her and the growing panic. The two plainclothes guards converge on us so quickly they seem to appear from nowhere.
“Luka?” I ask.
Without taking his eyes off the crowd, he says, “Stay close to Alexei.”
The tone of his voice sends unease skittering down my spine.
More shouting erupts near the entrance.
“Oh God.”
“Somebody call the police.”
“Check backstage.”
“I can't find her.”
Children cry louder while parents push through the lobby in every direction, desperate to find their kids. The crowd closes in around us, then surges forward hard enough to send people stumbling.
A woman carrying a toddler collides with me from behind. Instinct takes over, and I grab her arm before she can fall.
“Sorry,” she gasps breathlessly, clutching her little boy tighter.
“It's okay,” I assure her.
When I turn back toward Alexei, my breath catches. He's no longer visible, hidden somewhere behind a wall of frightened parents and crying children. Panic claws at my chest.
“Alexei?” I call, rising onto my toes.
I spot a glimpse of dark hair. Then nothing.
A group of frightened parents surges between us.
“Alexei!” I call out.
“Maggie!”
I hear my name, but I can’t tell where it came from.
“Alexei?” I shout again, trying to push through the crowd.
Somebody bumps my shoulder. A child runs past. Another panicked parent nearly runs into me.
The lobby has become pure mayhem. Then a hand lands firmly on my shoulder. I spin around.
A tall man wearing dark slacks and a charcoal button-down stands beside me. An earpiece disappears beneath his collar.
I don't recognize him, but Alexei's security detail has grown so much over the past few weeks that I barely question it anymore.
“Miss Hayes,” he says urgently, placing a guiding hand near the center of my back. “Mr. Agapov sent me. Stay close. I'll get you to him and Ivy.”
Relief crashes through me. Alexei would never leave me alone in this.
“Thank God.” I nod quickly. “Where are they?”
“They're backstage,” he replies, already steering me through the crowd. “Follow me.”
I hurry after him. The farther we walk, the quieter it becomes. We leave the packed lobby behind and move into one of the side hallways branching toward the backstage area. The sounds of crying children and panicked parents gradually fade behind us.
My breathing slowly steadies.
“They're backstage?” I ask again, quickening my pace to stay beside him.
“Yes.”
“Is Ivy okay?”
“She's fine,” he answers.
Something about his response doesn't sit right with me. He answers too quickly, as though he's rehearsed the words beforehand.
I glance around, and unease stirs inside me. The hallway stretches empty in both directions. There are no parents, no teachers, no security guards, and no Luka. A knot forms low in my stomach.
“Where exactly are they?” I ask, slowing.
“Just ahead.”
He doesn't glance in my direction or slow his stride. He keeps walking, and suddenly I can't make myself take another step.
The man takes two more steps before realizing I’m no longer following him. Slowly, he turns.
Every instinct I have begins screaming.
“Where's Luka?” I ask, taking a step backward.
The man's expression changes. The urgency disappears, replaced by something cold and sinister.
I know before he moves. Before anyone touches me. I spin toward the lobby and run. I don't make it two steps.
An arm wraps around my waist from behind while another hand slams over my mouth. I scream anyway. The sound comes out muffled and broken.
I fight. God, I fight.
I drive my elbow backward with every ounce of strength I possess. It connects with something hard. A man curses. The grip on my mouth loosens for a fraction of a second.
I bite down hard. The taste of blood floods my tongue.
“Son of a bitch!” he snarls.
I wrench free long enough to scream, “Alexei!”
The shout echoes down the hallway.
Strong hands grab me again.
I kick wildly. My heel connects with a shin.
Someone grunts. Another curse fills the hallway.
“Get her outside,” a voice snaps.
Outside.
Oh God. No. No, no, no.
I claw at anything I can reach. Fabric. Skin. Hair.
I manage another scream. “Alexei!”
A door crashes open, and sunlight floods the hallway. Panic explodes inside me. Waiting beyond the emergency exit sits a dark van.
“No!” I scream, thrashing violently. “No! Let me go!”
One of the men tightens his grip painfully around my waist.
“Move,” he growls.
I fight harder because surrender isn't an option. Ivy needs me. Alexei needs me. The tiny life growing inside me needs me. I will not stop fighting.
They drag me across the pavement anyway. The van doors slide open. I dig my heels into the concrete, but it doesn't matter. Strong hands lift me.
The last thing I hear before they throw me inside is Alexei screaming my name.