It must have been a slow news week in Chicago, because a lot of people picked up on the story. Silver couldn’t even ride the El to work because every time she got on the hovertrain, she was bombarded with people asking her questions about the breakup, or, worse, calling her a slut and shaking their head that someone could treat a man like Joe the way she had.
Silver had responded by withdrawing from the world as much as possible. She took hovertaxis back and forth to rehearsals, and when she wasn’t dancing she was hiding out in her apartment, trying to focus her mind on anything but Joe.
She had called her mom, who had broken up with a celebrity years ago and suffered a lot of media scrutiny over the situation. Her mom empathized with her, but told her that there wasn’t much she could do except lay low and wait for it to blow over.
“Don’t try to defend yourself, or set people straight. No one listens, anyway. Just wait a few days or weeks and everyone will move on to the next interesting piece of gossip.”
Silver had taken her mom’s advice as best she could. But it was hard to truly lay low when you were dancing as the star of a popular ballet during its grand finale weekend. Friday’s and Saturday’s performances had gone well enough, but Silver couldn’t help feeling like the energy of the crowd wasn’t quite the same as it usually was. Maybe she was reading into things too much, but she felt like everyone was viewing her through a dirty lens, believing that she was a liar and cheater. Not exactly the image you wanted to be in your audience members’ heads when you were dancing as Cinderella.
Still, Silver was pleased with the way she had danced, and her knee was holding up well. She had two performances today, and then the show was over. But if the pounding in her head didn’t get better, Silver wasn’t sure she was going to be able to finish off her last two shows.
She forced herself to sit up and look around the room. Maybe she just needed to get up and get moving. Sometimes, when she had a cold or a sore throat, she felt better after getting up and letting things resettle after a night of sleep. Maybe the pounding in her head would settle a little bit if she got her day rolling.
As soon as the room stopped spinning from her sudden change of position, Silver put a hand to her forehead, then winced. She definitely had a fever. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Silver swung her legs over the side of her bed and walked over to the bathroom, where she held on to the counter to steady herself in front of the mirror.
“Computer, what’s my temperature,” Silver asked.
The plain mirror instantly transformed into a crystal computer screen, and a long, horizontal beam of red light shot out from the screen, scanning up and down Silver’s body a few times.
“Caution, temperature is critically elevated,” the computer announced. “Current readout is 103.7 degrees Fahrenheit.”
“Wonderful,” Silver muttered. She turned to the small medicine cabinet on the wall next to the mirror and asked wearily, “Computer, do I have fever reducing medication.”
The computer screen on the medicine cabinet displayed two options, and Silver chose the one that appeared stronger, then took a double dose. With her bear metabolism, it often took twice the normal amount of medication to have an effect on her. She chose some pain medication too, and downed a double dose of that as well. Then she slowly, painfully walked toward her kitchen, hoping she had some orange juice in the fridge. Her whole body ached, and every step felt excruciating. She hoped that once the medicine kicked in, some of these aches would disappear. She couldn’t imagine dancing under the hot stage lights right now.
Silver had been so excited to land the role of Cinderella, but the dance gods had not been kind to her this show. She’d had issue after issue with her health, and, at this point, she just hoped she could make it through her last two shows.
Silver was relieved to find that she did have orange juice. As she took long sips of the cool fruity liquid, and the meds she had taken started to kick in, Silver started to feel a little bit better. She told herself to just remain calm, and take the day as it came. She’d danced while injured and sick before. She could power through this.
As Silver took another long drag from her juice, her phone screen suddenly lit up, and the intercom system in her condo started dinging before announcing, “Call from, Joe’s house. Call from, Joe’s house.”
Silver rolled her eyes and groaned. Seriously, hadn’t he given up by now? You’d think that after smearing her name in the local press, he’d at least have the decency to not call her anymore.
“Ignore call,” Silver said. The dinging and computer voice died down. A few moments later, another dinging announced that she had a voicemail. With a sigh, Silver commanded the computer to play the message.
“This oughta be good,” she muttered to herself. But as the message started playing, Silver was surprised to find that it wasn’t Joe’s voice on the line. Instead, it was his father. The sound of Mr. Astor’s voice, sneering and jubilant, made Silver’s blood run cold.
“Well, hello there, Silver. I bet you weren’t expecting it to be me, were you? I was just wondering how you were feeling. It would be a shame if you feel ill on the last night of the show now, wouldn’t it?”
The message ended with maniacal laughter, and Silver shivered. Her brain might have been moving a little sluggishly this morning, but it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Silver’s hand went up to her flaming hot forehead again. Mr. Astor knew she was sick. And she knew that, somehow, he’d had something to do with it. But how?
Silver racked her brain, trying to remember if she’d had anything usual happen to her in the last few days. But everything was a blur of rehearsals and performances, with a bit of avoiding the press mixed in. Nothing seemed sinister or too out of the ordinary.
Silver stumbled to the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Her head was spinning and she was exhausted. She picked up her phone, intending to text Storm or her brother. But she decided against it at the last minute. They would only freak out and worry about her. Instead, she decided to set an alarm to wake her up in an hour. She could sleep that long and still make it downtown in time for her warm-up. She needed all the rest she could get right now.
* * *
Several hours later, Silver stood backstage, breathing in and out slowly and trying to steady herself in a room that refused to stop spinning. She had already made it through the afternoon matinee performance. All that was left was the final evening performance. She hadn’t danced her best in the afternoon’s performance, but she had done a good enough job that no one except her dance coaches would truly see the difference. Now, though, she was feeling the effects of expending that much energy while sick. She was supposed to go on in fifteen minutes, and she was beginning to accept the fact that she might not make it through this last performance. Her understudy was greedily circling backstage, trying to act concerned but really just hoping that she would have the chance to dance the last performance. Silver hated to admit it, but today might be that girl’s lucky day.
Silver closed her eyes and tried to block out everything around her. She used to be strong, stubborn, and fearless. Some days, like today, she wondered what had happened to the spunky little girl she used to be. A little fever had never stopped her before. And yet, here she was, wondering whether she should just throw in the towel on the last night of the biggest show of her career thus far. Was she really that sick? Or was she just getting older and too complacent? If she powered through, she believed deep down she could do this. But did she really want to? What did it matter, anyway? No one she knew was here to watch her. At the end of the day, ninety-nine percent of the crowd out there would be just as happy watching her understudy dance as they would be watching Silver.
Silver stood and started walking back toward the dressing rooms with a resigned sigh. She might as well pull out of the show and go home to rest. Mr. Astor could win this stupid little battle. Silver didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to sleep.
Silver ma
de it back to the little spot in the dressing room where her duffel bag was sitting, and she started digging in it for some street clothes. She would throw on a sweatshirt and then go tell the director that she was bowing out. As she was reaching for her sweatshirt, though, she felt a buzzing from her phone in the side pocket of the bag. She almost ignored it. After all, most of the calls she was getting these days somehow related to her breakup with Joe. But, for some reason, she decided to glance and see who was calling.
When she pulled the phone out, she saw that it wasn’t a call, but a text from Jack. Despite how awful she felt, Silver couldn’t help but smile at his name on her screen. She had to admit that she had enjoyed seeing more of him than usual this week. He was so easy to talk to and hang out with, not to mention he was drop-dead gorgeous. Silver was pretty sure he didn’t look at her as anything more than a childhood friend, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t daydream about him, right?
Silver opened the message, and her eyes widened in shock. Jack had written: Surprise! All the Fur Coats are here to cheer you on! Have a great show!
Attached to the message was a photo. Jack’s arm took up a good portion of the screen, stretched out as far away from his body as he could get it so that he could get everyone in on the impromptu selfie. The whole group was there, grinning at the camera—Jack, Grant, Storm, Bash, and Juno. And it looked like they had seats really close to the stage. Silver whistled. She had no idea how they had managed to get that many seats together this late in the game. It must have cost them a fortune!
Silver bit her lower lip in determination, and slipped her phone back into the duffel bag along with her sweatshirt. She stood up straight and took another deep breath. There was no way she could back out of this show now. Seeing her brother and her friends out there, sacrificing their Sunday evening and who knows how much money to watch her dance, gave her renewed energy. She was strong. She was a grizzly, after all. She could do this, no matter how sick she felt.
Silver made her way back toward the stage, and stood in her position behind the curtain. She closed her eyes, and did what she always did when she felt scared or weak. She imagined her birth mother, who had died giving her life, and she channeled her spirit. Silver drew on the strength of the woman who had given up everything so that she could live, and she bit her lower lip with determination. She would dance tonight, for her mom, her family, and her friends. She wouldn’t let an evil man like Joe’s father hold her back, or keep her from her dreams.
“Silver, it’s five minutes to showtime,” the director said, breaking into Silver’s thoughts. “I need to know if you’re going to be able to dance this show.”
Silver opened her eyes and smiled at the director. “I can dance it,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the understudy frown unhappily.
“Are you sure?” the director asked. “I don’t want you crapping out on me halfway through.”
“I’m sure,” Silver said. “Let’s do this.”
Silver danced her heart out that night as she had never done before. The fever didn’t go away, and the aching in her bones continued to feel worse. But Silver ignored the pain in her body and dug deep down within herself to find the strength to keep going. Every time she was tempted to quit, she pulled up a mental image of the photograph Jack had sent her of the Fur Coats, all sitting out in the audience and cheering her on.
Silver danced the best she had ever danced that night. She poured her whole soul out onto that stage. Through all of the pain, and the moments where she felt lightheaded and feverish and would have rather just gone home to fall into her own warm bed, she persevered. When the final bows had been taken, Silver stumbled once again to the dressing room, exhausted, but happy to know that she had made it. Now, she could truly rest. She had a few weeks off before she had to start rehearsing for her next big show, and she was looking forward to relaxing.
Silver quickly changed into leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, ignoring the happy chatter and laughter surrounding her. Energy and excitement was running high after a spectacular grand finale, but as the high of the performance started to fade, Silver’s own energy was fading, too. She could feel the room starting to spin again, and she held onto the wall to steady herself as she walked toward the exit.
When she left the backstage area, she found Jack, Grant, Storm, Bash, and Juno all waiting for her. They were all grinning, and Bash was holding a big, colorful bouquet of flowers. But as soon as they saw her, the smiles fell from their faces.
“Sil, what’s wrong?” Storm asked. “You look really pale.”
“Uh, I don’t feel too great,” Silver said, struggling to focus on Storm’s face. The spinning sensation was getting worse, and everything was starting to look a little blurry. Moments later, Silver was filled with a weird sensation, like she was going weightless.
“Silver!” Jack screamed. That was the last thing Silver remembered before everything went black.
Chapter Ten
Silver blinked her eyes open in a daze. She was staring up at her living room ceiling. Bright sunshine streamed in through the windows, and a big, soft blanket covered her body. She tried to sit up, but it was a bit of a struggle. Every muscle in her body felt stiff and unresponsive. When she finally made it up onto her elbow, she glanced over and was surprised to find Jack slumped over and sound asleep in her armchair. He was wearing scrubs, and looked like he had come directly over from the hospital. His I.D. badge still hung on a lanyard around his neck.
“Jack?” Silver asked. Her voice was raspy and rough, as though she hadn’t had a drink of water in days. Jack stirred, but didn’t wake up. Silver furrowed her brow and tried to figure out why she was sleeping here on her couch during what appeared to be the middle of the day. The last thing she remembered was seeing her friends after the show last night. Everything after that went completely blank.
“Jack?” Silver tried again. Jack stirred again, but this time he slowly opened his eyes. When his eyes focused on Silver he sat up straight with lightning speed.
“Silver! Oh my god you’re awake!” he said, then jumped up and ran across the room to her. He placed one of his palms on her forehead, and reached to feel her pulse with his other hand.
“Yeah, I’m awake. What happened after the show? Did we go out and party too much or something? I don’t remember anything. And, oh my god! Did you have to work after the show? Why are you in your scrubs? I can’t believe you guys all got tickets to the show.”
Silver was starting to feel better as she woke up a little more. She sat up straight, and then smiled. “Hey,” she said. “The room isn’t spinning anymore. I wasn’t feeling too great last night before the show.”
Jack’s look of concern deepened. “Silver, do you really not remember anything?”
Silver frowned. “You mean about after the show? No, not really. Oh, god, did I drink too many margaritas again?”
“Silver, you almost died!” Jack exclaimed, his voice frantic.
Silver stopped talking and stared at Jack, dumbfounded. “I almost died?” she asked, racking her brain even harder to try to remember what had happened.
“Yes. As best we can tell, you were poisoned. You had some really weird flu bug that I’ve never seen before. Neither had my buddy Ethan, and he’s one of the best damn doctors I know.”
Silver frowned. “Did I go to the hospital or what? I’m so confused. Last night is a total blur.”
Jack ran his fingers through his hair and sat down next to Silver. “Wow, you really don’t remember anything, do you?”
“Apparently not,” Silver said. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Well, first of all, it’s not the day after your show. It’s three days after.”
“What?” Silver asked. “How is that possible?”
“It just is. Today is Wednesday. You’ve been passed out since after the show Sunday night. Basically, we came to meet you backstage when the show was over, and you fainted. Just totally, completely lost consciousn
ess. You even stopped breathing at one point. I had to do CPR on you until the ambulance got there. They rushed you to the hospital, where you were lucky enough to be assigned to my buddy, Ethan Halpert. He took really good care of you, but you still were on the edge there for a few hours. He didn’t even tell us how bad you were until after it was clear you were going to make it.”
Silver’s eyes widened as she tried to process everything. “Do my parents know?” she asked.
“No,” Jack said. “By the time we realized how close you had come to dying, you were already better. Bash decided it wasn’t worth alarming your dad. Once you were stabilized we brought you home to recover here. All the Fur Coats have been taking turns staying with you. I just got home from a shift at the hospital a few hours ago and took over for Juno.”
“So, what was wrong with me? You said I was poisoned? I wasn’t feeling good all day on Sunday, but I thought it was just some kind of flu bug, too.”
Jack frowned. “Ethan found weird chemical substances in the blood tests they ran on you when they were trying to figure out was wrong with you. It was a combination that should have been deadly, and he couldn’t figure out how you made it through. It was more than enough to kill a normal human woman. Of course, I didn’t tell him…”
“That I’m a shifter,” Silver said as Jack let his voice trail off.
“Right,” Jack said. “I think someone tried to kill you. Someone who obviously had no clue that poisoning you wouldn’t be as easy as he or she thought.”
“Oh no,” Silver said, a feeling of dread filling her as Sunday’s events started to come back to her. “I think I know who did this.”
“I have a pretty good idea who you’re going to name,” Jack said. “But why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you think before I say anything.”
“Joe’s dad,” Silver said. Jack just nodded grimly, so Silver continued. “He called me Sunday morning and asked me how I was feeling, which was really suspicious since I had woken up feeling so awful. I didn’t have time to think about it too much, though. I was focusing all of my energy on making it through my performances. But he must have tried to poison me.”
Trouble in a Fur Coat (The Fur Coat Society Book 1) Page 8
