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When I was eighteen, my younger sister, Camille, pushed me down the backstage stairs to steal the only official contract spot at the Hartwell Dance Company. I suffered a comminuted fracture in my right leg, but she put on my costume, danced my choreography, and became the principal dancer. Mom said she was just continuing my dream for me. I believed her for ten whole years. Until the end of her anniversary performance as principal dancer. Sitting in my wheelchair, I watched my husband, Theo, walk onto the stage and personally place the crown on her head. The host smiled and asked them what their biggest regret was after ten years of working together. My sister touched her slightly rounded belly and looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm almost three months pregnant, and Theo is the father." She looked at me again. "Mara, I'm sorry. I don't want him to be treated like someone who needs to be hidden away from the moment he's born." *** I originally hadn't wanted to go to my sister Camille's anniversary performance. Mom called three times, saying Camille had prepared for this performance for an entire year, and the final dance was *Homecoming*, the piece I never got to finish when I was eighteen. "If you don't go, she'll have regrets," she said, then added, "You're sisters. You can't hold a grudge over something that happened ten years ago for the rest of your life." In the end, it was Theo who pushed me into the theater. Theo was my husband, and before I turned eighteen, he was the dance partner I was most in sync with. After my leg injury, I could never go on stage again, but he never left. We got married privately six years ago. There was no wedding, and we never announced it to the public. At first, I didn't want to be chased by the media and asked about the accident. He also said that marriage was between two people and there was no need to put it out there for others to gossip about. At the time, I thought I was lucky enough. I had lost the stage, but at least I still had someone by my side who truly knew what I had been through. When we entered, a reporter recognized me and chased after us, asking if I was Camille's "sister who retired due to injury." Theo shielded me from the cameras, saying I was just here as family today and wasn't accepting interviews. I even felt a warmth in my chest at that gesture, thinking that after ten years, he still knew what I was afraid of the most. The staff seated me in the front row, right next to the aisle. Theo checked my wheelchair brakes before heading backstage. I still remember telling Mom that he hadn't changed at all over the years. After the lights dimmed, Camille appeared from the center lift. Ten years had passed, and she was already the youngest principal dancer in the Hartwell Dance Company. When the music for *Homecoming* started, I still couldn't help but grip the armrests of my wheelchair. The first raised hand, the turn, and even the deliberate half-beat delay when her foot landed—I had painstakingly perfected all of it when I was eighteen. Back then, Camille would always squat by the door of the rehearsal room to watch me, smiling as she said, "Mara, when you become a principal dancer, I'll carry your bags for you." Later, she pushed me down the backstage stairs. My right knee was shattered, and my pelvis was also severely injured. For the audition the next day that was supposed to be mine, she wore my costume and went in my place. Mom gripped the bedrails, slumping down entirely as she begged me, saying Camille was just filling in for me this one time. That "one time" lasted ten years. After the performance, the host invited Theo onto the stage, saying he was not only Camille's most important choreographer but also her most in-sync partner of the past ten years. Theo glanced back at me as he walked up, and I even smiled at him. Until he personally placed the crown on Camille's head. The host smiled and asked them what their biggest regret was after ten years of working together. Camille fell silent for a few seconds and touched her belly. "I'm almost three months pregnant, and Theo is the father. Mara, I'm sorry, but I don't want him to be treated like someone who needs to be hidden away from the moment he's born." The venue went dead silent for a moment, followed immediately by a frenzy of camera flashes. I didn't catch what the people around me were shouting. I only saw Theo frown and say in a low voice, "Didn't we agree to talk about this after we went back?" I turned to look at Mom. She looked awful, but she didn't ask if it was true. Instead, she just reached out and held down my wheelchair. "Mara, there are reporters everywhere. Don't make a scene right now." I looked at her. It turned out Diane had known all along too.After the performance, I found Theo backstage. He had just changed out of his costume. Camille was sitting in front of the vanity mirror taking off her makeup, and Mom was bending over to help her out of her heels. Theo placed a glass of warm water next to her hand, and when Camille lifted her foot, he casually steadied her. Their movements were so natural, as if this exact scene had played out many times before. "How long?" I asked. Theo walked over and tried to push my wheelchair. "Mara, let's talk about this at home." I swatted his hand away, keeping my eyes fixed on Camille. She lowered her head. "Twelve weeks." Three months ago, Theo said the company was busy with a new project and slept in the rehearsal studio for half a month straight. I even brought him clothes twice. Once, Camille came out to open the door wearing his jacket, and I just assumed the AC in the studio was too cold. "When did this start?" A look of embarrassment finally appeared on Theo's face. "It wasn't what you think in the beginning." Mom frowned first. "Camille just finished her performance, and her pregnancy isn't stable yet. Do you really have to ask about this right now?" "She's pregnant with my husband's child. When do you want me to ask?" Camille cried. "Mara, I'm sorry. At first, it really was just rehearsals. Later, my leg injury flared up, and Theo took care of me..." "Then why did you expose this in front of everyone today?" She bit her lip. "I'm not forcing you to get a divorce. I just can't let my child grow up not even being able to say who his father is." After saying that, she subconsciously glanced at Theo. I let out a small laugh. "Your leg injury? Camille, do you know why my leg is ruined?" She immediately stopped talking. Theo frowned. "Mara, stop bringing up what happened ten years ago." I whipped my head to look at him. The night I fell down the stairs, he was the one who carried me into the ambulance. When the doctor said I could never dance again, he was the one who sat in the hospital stairwell and cried with me all night. Later, because my old pelvic injury was so severe, the doctor told me pregnancy would be high-risk. Theo held me and said it didn't matter, that we could spend our lives together just the two of us. "And?" I asked. "She pushed me down the stairs, took my spot, and now she's pregnant with your child. What are you going to do?" Theo stayed silent for a moment. "The child is innocent." Mom chimed in. "What else can he do? You can't expect her to get an abortion. Besides, you know the condition of your own body. It's not out of line for Theo to want a child." I stared at her. She was the one who had gone with me to get that high-risk pregnancy diagnosis. "Mom, did you forget why my body is like this?" She avoided my eyes. I only looked at Theo. "Let's get a divorce." His head snapped up. "I don't want to divorce you. I'll take responsibility for the child, but our marriage won't change." I almost thought I heard him wrong. Theo looked a bit annoyed under my gaze. He raised a hand and rubbed his brow. "After your accident, I stopped dancing for a long time too. It was only when I started rehearsing a duet with Camille again that I felt like life was somewhat normal again." As soon as the words left his mouth, he paused. "Normal?" I asked. He didn't answer. I looked down at my right knee. Ten years ago, Camille made it so I could never dance with him again. Ten years later, he fell in love with her because she still could.I didn't go back with them that day. By the time Theo chased me out to the hallway, I had already wheeled myself to the elevators. He reached out to block the elevator doors, saying in a low voice, "Mara, let's go home first. There are so many reporters here. If this blows up, it won't be good for anyone." "Not good for who?" He didn't answer. I suddenly remembered that we had been privately married for six years, yet we had never made it public. At first, I didn't want the press reducing me to "the wheelchair-bound wife behind the principal dancer." Later, as Camille got more and more famous and Theo became her permanent partner, their team said there was no need to suddenly announce our marriage, as it might affect their commercial deals. Back then, I even made excuses for him, saying it was fine to keep work and personal life separate. Thinking about it now, the only one who was kept separate was me. "I'll have my lawyer send you the divorce papers." Theo's face darkened. "I said I'm not getting a divorce. I have no intention of abandoning you." Mom chased after us too and slammed her hand onto the elevator's open button. "Whatever it is, say it at home. Camille just announced her pregnancy today. If you demand a divorce right now, what will people out there think of her?" I froze for a couple of seconds. "So you chased after me because you're afraid my divorce will affect her?" "She just got nominated for the International Dance Festival. If word gets out right now that she interfered in your marriage, how is she supposed to keep her footing in the company?" "Mom, I'm the one whose husband cheated on her." Mom frowned. "But your marriage with Theo was never public to begin with. Everyone out there just thinks they're a couple now. If you expose the marriage now, Camille will turn into the other woman who destroyed your marriage overnight. Her nomination, her sponsors, the international stage she just secured—they'll all be ruined. If the media digs up what happened ten years ago, her career as principal will completely collapse. You've endured it for so long, do you really have to make a scene at the peak of her career?" She spoke with such urgency, as if me delaying the divorce would somehow make Camille the true victim. Camille ran over as well. Her eyes were red from crying, but for the first time, she didn't just apologize. "Mara, if you want a divorce, I won't stop you, and I can raise the child on my own. I only went public today because I didn't want people pointing at my child later and saying he was a secret. I never wanted to steal anything from you." "You didn't steal?" I looked at her. "Wasn't that spot in the Hartwell Dance Company mine? Isn't *Homecoming* mine? Isn't Theo my husband?" Her face paled, but after a few seconds, she lifted her chin. "I'm sorry about the spot. But over the last ten years, I practiced over ten hours a day. I suffered through the injuries, the competitions, the tours all by myself. You can't just assume that everything I have now should be handed back to you just because of that one moment ten years ago." I suddenly felt there was nothing left to fight about. "Fine. Since you think none of it was stolen, then stop saying you're doing it for me." Camille froze. "*Homecoming*, *Silence*, *Tides*, and all the pieces I've tweaked for you over the years—don't use them anymore starting today." Theo was the first to lose his composure. "*Homecoming* has already made it to the finals of the International Dance Festival." "Then withdraw it." "Mara." He softened his tone. "Just for this competition. We can talk about the credits after the festival is over." Mom also urged me not to be stubborn, saying it would affect the whole dance company. The elevator finally arrived. I looked at them. "Do you all think that just because I've yielded for ten years, stepping aside one more time means nothing?" No one answered. The doors slowly closed in front of me.

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