Louise: A New Beginning (6 page)

Then I was corrected.

“Some lady came a few minutes ago and left it for you,” Roberto, another one of my students said. He was half-Spanish, and I always enjoyed talking to him, his accent was really cute.

“Some lady?” I repeated his words, even more surprised. “Did any of you recognize her?”

“I did,” Pauline said, running up to me. She was one of my favorite little dancers, very talented and hardworking, despite her young age. “She keeps coming to find you, but I don't know why. And she scares me. She looks like a witch from that fairytale my dad and I were watching last night.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m sure whoever she is, she is not as bad as that witch. Did she ever say what she wanted from me?”

“No, she only once asked if this is your class. And today she brung that envelope for you.” Pauline pointed to my desk. “See? It even has your name on it.”

I looked at the envelope, feeling a little troubled. “Thanks guys. Get ready, we will start in a minute.” I went to my desk, took the envelope, opened it, pulled out the note it contained, and read it to myself.

“Leave this school. The sooner, the better.”

What the hell? Why would I need to leave the school? Who was the woman who left the note? And why does she always come when I’m not around?

“Pauline?” I called. “Come here, please. Can you describe the woman who left this for me?”

“Um. . .she was old, reawwy old. Like my mema’s age, but wif gray hair. And she wooked mad. Her face was scrunched up.”

“What do you mean her face was scrunched up, how did she look mad?”

“I don't think she liked being here. And she kept looking at the door to see if anyone was coming.”

Now, that was really weird.

“Thank you,” I said, tucking the note in my bag. It was better to hide it before someone else found it and read it.

My first thought was to show it to Christopher, but then I changed my mind. Whoever the mysterious woman was, she made sure the note was meant for me, and me alone.

Needless to say, I couldn’t stop thinking about the damn note for the rest of the day. I had three classes of my own to attend, but by the end of the second one, something happened. I received another note; this one was taped to my locker in the dressing room.

“Be careful, they are close,”
the note said. It was written in the same handwriting as the first one, which scared the hell out of me. Because whoever the sender was, she apparently meant business. She wanted me gone, and she wanted it
now. . .

Later that day, my suspicions were confirmed the moment I opened the door to my apartment. Another envelope was lying on the floor. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race in my chest. Quickly, I shut the door behind me, and grabbed the damn envelope from the floor, tearing it open.

“You got too close to the things that will be kept secret. . . At any cost.”

What?
What the hell did she mean by that? What things did I get too close to? For the last five months, I hadn’t done anything other than training and working!

Damn it, I needed to talk to Will. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to since I knew he would only want to lock me away, in the safety of his house before I even got the chance to tell him the whole story; the note was more than enough proof for him that I wasn’t safe on my own. Besides that, what if I did tell him about the notes?
Would that put his life in danger too?
I couldn’t tell him, there was no way I would put him at risk because of a few pieces of paper. At least not until I knew more about the notes and their sender.

I decided to wait and see how it played out. I wanted to see if the woman would try to contact me again, and then, if she did, I would have to figure out the rest of the details later; if not, then there was no harm in not telling Will.

On Tuesday morning, I woke up to my phone ringing; the call was from a number I didn’t recognize. It could be Will, but I still wasn’t ready to talk to him. He would have immediately noticed there was something wrong with me, so I ignored the call. Right after I hit ignore, I received a text message. It was from the same number as the call.

I read, “Be careful around William Blair. . .”

Now, the bitch had gone too far. Even though I had just found out about her showing up in my class and asking my students about me, I was sick and tired of the twisted game she was trying to play.

“Stay the hell out of my life!” I shouted angrily at my phone, staring at the damn message. Not that she could hear me, but it made me feel a little better. Somehow, I knew it was the same woman who left all those mysterious notes for me.

It was time to find out who she really was and what she wanted from me. I dialed the number from the missed call, put the phone to my ear, and waited for her to pick up. To my great disappointment, no one answered. So I decided to send a message of my own. . .

“Stop following and contacting me, or I call the police!”

As expected, no response followed. I hoped the person behind the notes, call, and a text message, would take the hint and back the hell off.

I knew nothing about my secret follower. . .and if I were being honest, I didn’t want to either. I just wanted her to stay away from my life and me.

I couldn’t help but admit, that leaving home that morning was as scary as hell. Normally, I would have walked to school, but today I took a taxi instead. I was constantly looking out the back window to make sure I wasn’t being followed, but with all of the traffic in the city, it was hard to tell.

Less than ten minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the school. I paid the driver and slowly stepped out of the car. Once the taxi left, I turned around and gave the parking lot a once over, looking for Christopher.

My mood got even worse when I didn’t see his car in its usual parking space. That was odd, considering he never let me out of his sight. I began to worry even more. Many different fears started to crawl into my head, making my ability to think straight simply impossible. I was on the verge of having a panic attack; I needed to find a way to calm down.

“Louise, you okay?”

I flinched, hearing the voice of Professor Norbert behind me. He was my dance history teacher.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It hasn’t been the best morning.”

“I am sorry to hear that, but I might be able to cheer you up. I have some great news for you.”

“Really?” I asked, without a trace of enthusiasm in my voice. I looked around carefully, still afraid someone would jump out of the bushes to kidnap me or something of the sort.

“Our headmistress, Mrs. Cormac, is returning from her trip to Europe, and she specifically asked to meet you when she got here.”

Sabine Cormac was one of my idols, a real professional in the world of dancing. She was one of the main reasons I applied to study at
Balero
in the first place. I knew her name long before my audition. I had always wanted to meet her in person.

“Really?” I asked, excited beyond words. Just a few moments ago, I thought there was nothing that could improve my terrible mood today, but now all the chaos from this morning seemed to wash away; it was like it all had been a bad dream and now I was awake, and everything was fine once more. Getting the chance to meet Sabine was a dream come true, and I wasn’t going to allow the drama in my life to ruin my excitement.

“She’ll be here around two in the afternoon tomorrow. Will you still be here when she gets in?”

“Yes, I have classes until one thirty.”

“Great. Once you are finished with your classes, go to her office and tell her secretary that I sent you to see our headmistress.”

I nodded, unable to believe that I would finally get a chance to meet one of the greatest dance icons of all time.

He turned around to walk away, but I called him back, “Mr. Norbert?”

“Yes?”

“How did she come to know about me?”

“Oh, I sent her a video from one of the performances with your solo. She was very impressed with you, and she said she would like to meet you in person. It’s a great honor, Louise. Sabine has an eye for talent. If she wants to meet you, it means big changes are coming your way.”

“I hope I won’t disappoint her.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure everything’s going to be all right. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to start.”

“Of course. Thank you, Sir.”

I felt like I had grown a pair of wings, and I could actually fly from all of the excitement overwhelming me at the moment. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so happy; meeting Will didn’t count. I was always happy to see him. But today, I got another reason to believe that my life was going to just get better and better from here on out.

I went to my class, smiling as broadly as ever. I couldn’t help myself, I was just that happy. But my happiness apparently wasn’t meant to last long. The moment I entered the classroom, I saw another envelope lying on my desk.

“You got another letter, Miss,” Pauline said.

“Was it here when you guys came in?”

“No, the mean, old lady brought it and left right just a minute ago.”

I dropped my bag and ran out into the hall, hoping I would be able to catch up with my secret messenger, but the hall was empty. I rushed to the stairs leading to the foyer and saw a female figure, heading for the exit. I rushed after her, and when the woman was about to disappear behind the door, I caught her by the hand, stopping her.

“Not so fast, lady.”

She turned around and looked at me, her eyes full of terror. I knew immediately she was the woman I had been looking for.

“Let me go,” she said quietly, trying to break free of my grip.

She was around sixty, maybe older, with long gray hair, gathered in a messy ponytail. Her dark-brown eyes stared at me with anger.

“Not until you answer a few questions,” I snapped, literally dragging her to a nearby couch. I pushed her down into the seat.

“Ouch!” She grimaced, rubbing her hand where I had been holding it.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?”

She didn’t respond.

“Tell me, or I swear I will call the police and tell them you have been stalking me.” I took my phone from my pocket, to make my point.

“That won’t be necessary,” she hissed.

“Great. Then let’s go back to my first question. Who the hell are you?”

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter, is who you are, Louise Woods.” She spoke with a strong accent, Hispanic maybe, but it was clear that she was not a native of New York.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a lot about you, Louise. Including your affair with William Blair.”

“We are not having an affair. And what does Will have to do with you harassing me?”

“He shouldn’t have found you, he shouldn’t have helped you. You don’t understand. . . Because of his feelings for you, he put both of you at risk.”

“How is that?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m as scared as you are.”

“Why? Did someone tell you to send me those notes?”

“No. I did that to help you.”

“Why did you tell me to leave the school?”

The woman looked around carefully. But we were alone in the foyer, so no one could hear us.

“Because it’s not safe for you here. This is the last place in the world you should be.”

“Why? What is so dangerous about this place?”

“The answer to all of your questions is your father.”

“You mean Fletcher Montgomery?”

“Yes. You already know that he never wanted you to be born, but now that you are no longer living in
Paradise
, and no one has control over you, you constitute real danger to his political career, not to mention his personal life. You have no idea how evil his wife is. If it were not for her family’s financial support, Montgomery would have never been able to become the man he is now. So he would never forgive you if you ruined it for him. And trust me, Louise, your relationship with Mr. Blair doesn’t help either.”

“What does my father have against Will?”

“Your dearest William likes digging in the trash that is best left untouched.”

“Can you be more specific, please?” I was getting tired of talking to her. She refused to answer my questions, and only gave me more reasons to be worried about Will and myself.

“Ask William about his father’s death.”

I remembered talking to Christopher about the tragedy that happened to Mr. Blair. His boat sank in the ocean.

“Will doesn’t believe it was an accident. . . What do you know about it?”

“He’s right. His father was murdered.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know. But I have an idea. . .”

I tried to put the woman’s words together and came to a very strange conclusion.

“Do you think it was my father’s handiwork?” I asked incredulous.

She didn’t respond.

“Tell me! Did he kill Will’s father?”

She stood up, opened her purse and took out a small, folded piece of paper. “I was going to give it to you a little later. . .but if you want to know more, find this person.”

I took the note, unfolded it and read the name it contained, “
Debora Griffin.
Who is she?”

“She’s the woman who knows the real reason for Mr. Blair’s death. And I’m sorry, Louise, but this is all I can tell you. But listen to me – stop coming here. It won’t do you any good.”

“But I can’t just drop out of
Balero.
I adore this place! It’s my life. Why would I need to leave?”

The woman swallowed, shaking her head. “No more questions. I’ve already told you too much.” She turned to leave, but I stopped her.

“Why are you trying to help me?”

She stood still, refusing to look at me.

“Tell me, please.”

Her eyes met mine, and it was the first time since the moment I met the woman that she didn’t look angry. Her features softened, her lips twisted in a barely visible, sad smile.

“Because I know how unfair your life has been, and trust me, when it comes to life being unfair, I know everything.” Then she walked to the door, and I didn’t try to stop her this time.

I kept standing in the foyer, holding the note with another stranger’s name in my hand, with no clue of what to do next. Of course, I could call Will and ask him about Debora Griffin, but then I remembered the woman’s words about Will nosing into the secrets that shouldn’t be revealed, and changed my mind. I didn’t want to pull him into another trouble. But there was one person who could help me find Debora.

I took my phone out of my pocket again and dialed Drew’s number. “I need a small favor,” I said into the handset. “If I text you a name, can you get me an address to find them?”

“I can try.”

“Good, I’ll send it to you.”

“Okay.”

I sent Drew a message and went back to my class where the kids had been waiting for me to start their training.

Later that day, when I was back home, I got on the Internet and tried to find some information on Debora Griffin. I didn’t find anything other than a couple of Facebook profiles with the same name, which was hardly helpful. Then I opened my father’s pre-election campaign website and looked through the pictures. I had never done any research on him. I had never tried to find out more about his family or his other children, but now I suddenly wanted to know everything about his life. Not because I was jealous of the things his other children had, rather because I was simply curious if my follower’s words about his connection to the death of Will’s father were true.

Living in Paradise I saw how jealousy ruined friendship, how it killed trust and made people hate each other. That’s why I never felt jealous of anything or anyone, because I did realize that some people might not have what I did, even if it was not much.

There were many pictures of my father and his wife on the website. Her name was Stacy. On one of the pictures, I saw two girls standing on both sides of them. According to the article written under the picture, they were my so-called sisters, Audrey and Emerald. Will was right, they were about my age. For a moment, I wondered if I could ever meet them in person. What would they think about me? Would they hate me? Oh, yes, they probably would have. After all, I was just an illegitimate offspring of their beloved father.

Angry, I shut the laptop down. There was no point in torturing myself with thoughts about something that would never happen. My father would never let his other daughters know about me, and I would never have enough courage to do it myself.

Did I need to know them? No, I didn’t. We didn’t have anything in common, apart from a few drops of blood we shared, thanks to our father. But that hardly mattered, considering we lived in completely different worlds, so far away from each other.