CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2
I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Penelope standing in the studio lobby, clutching her costume bag while Rebecca's words echoed through the room.
"She'll ruin my studio's reputation."
No thirteen-year-old should ever hear that from someone she trusted.
The next morning, I made the phone call.
"National Young Performers Dance Competition," a cheerful voice answered.
"My name is Laura Bennett," I said. "My daughter, Penelope Bennett, qualified through Frost-Line Dance Studio. I need to ask something important."
The woman introduced herself as Claire and asked for Penelope's registration number.
I waited while she searched.
"I found her," Claire said. "She's registered in the Junior Contemporary Solo division."
Relief washed over me.
"Good."
Then Claire hesitated.
"Although..."
My stomach tightened.
"There was a withdrawal request submitted this morning."
I gripped the phone harder.
"A withdrawal?"
"Yes."
"Who submitted it?"
"The studio director."
Rebecca.
I closed my eyes.
She hadn't been satisfied with humiliating Penelope in front of the entire lobby.
She wanted to make sure my daughter never stepped onto a national stage.
"I never approved that," I said firmly.
"My husband never approved it either."
Claire's tone immediately changed.
"If you're the legal guardian, the situation is different."
"What do you mean?"
"A studio can recommend a withdrawal, but if the competitor is a minor, parental authorization may be required depending on the registration agreement."
Hope flickered for the first time since yesterday.
"So she still has a chance?"
"I can't promise anything," Claire replied, "but if you send us documentation today, the review committee can examine the case."
"I'll have it within the hour."
The rest of the morning became a race against time.
I searched every folder in the house.
Competition receipts.
Registration forms.
Emails confirming Penelope had earned the solo.
The official program listing her performance.
Even Rebecca's own congratulatory message from months earlier.
"Congratulations, Penelope. You earned this opportunity."
Reading those words now made my blood boil.
How could the same woman who had praised my daughter suddenly decide she wasn't good enough?
Unless...
She had never believed that in the first place.
When Penelope finally came downstairs, she still looked exhausted.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
She quietly poured herself a bowl of cereal but barely touched it.
"Honey," I said gently.
"I talked to the competition office."
She looked up immediately.
"What did they say?"
"They're reviewing everything."
Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly.
"So... I'm not out?"
"Not yet."
She stared at me for several seconds.
"Mom..."
"Yes?"
"If they let me dance..."
She swallowed.
"I don't want to do Rebecca's choreography anymore."
I hadn't expected that.
"Why?"
"Because every time I hear that music, all I can think about is her telling me I wasn't enough."
My heart broke all over again.
"You don't have to dance anything that reminds you of that moment."
She nodded.
"I just want one chance."
"One chance to show what I can really do."
"You'll get it," I promised.
Even though I wasn't completely sure.
That afternoon, Patrick came home from work early.
He had spoken with Rebecca.
It hadn't gone well.
"She said you embarrassed her," he told me.
"I embarrassed her?"
"She claims you questioned her authority in front of parents."
I laughed bitterly.
"She humiliated our daughter in front of twenty families."
Patrick didn't argue.
Instead, he sat quietly at the kitchen table.
"I always knew Rebecca could be harsh."
He rubbed his forehead.
"But I honestly believed she cared about Penelope."
"So did I."
He looked toward the hallway where Penelope was practicing simple stretches by herself.
"No coach should ever tell a child she's invisible."
For years, Patrick had defended his sister.
This was the first crack in that loyalty.
Late that afternoon, my email notification chimed.
National Young Performers Dance Competition Committee.
My hands shook as I opened it.
"Mrs. Bennett, after reviewing the documentation you provided, the committee has determined that Penelope Bennett's withdrawal request requires further investigation. Her competition eligibility has been temporarily reinstated pending final review."
I read the sentence twice before calling Penelope into the room.
She read it silently.
Then looked up at me.
"So... I'm still in?"
I smiled.
"You're still in."
She threw her arms around me so tightly I could barely breathe.
For the first time since leaving Frost-Line, she smiled.
Not because everything had been fixed.
But because someone, somewhere, had finally given her a chance.
May you like
Neither of us realized that at that exact moment, Rebecca was opening an email from the competition committee informing her that Penelope's withdrawal had been reversed.
And judging by the furious phone call that came the following morning, Rebecca was about to realize she had made the biggest mistake of her career.
