Chapter 4

The sound of Isabella's sobs echoed through the empty dance studio, each ragged breath amplified by the mirrored walls. I'd gotten her frantic text twenty minutes ago and broken every speed limit to get here. Now, standing in the doorway, watching my daughter crumpled on the hardwood floor still in her practice clothes at 2 AM, I felt something primal rise within me.

"Isabella," I called softly, my heels clicking against the floor as I approached.

She looked up, her face streaked with tears, mascara creating dark rivers down her cheeks. "Mom," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I didn't know…