“Valerie, Anders, you have no idea how disappointed I was when last week’s show put the two of you in the bottom,” said Adrian gravely. He leaned forward, looking between us. “But after seeing this, I have to say you deserved to be there. The fact that you could have been dancing like this, and chose not to, is disgraceful. You should be ashamed of yourselves, and you should be aware that if you make it through this week’s eliminations, I’m going to expect much, much more from you. I always thought the two of you were brilliant dancers. Now I know that you are artists, and I will not allow you to return to your previous ways. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, Adrian,” said Anders and I dutifully.

Adrian suddenly grinned. “Then I can forgive you. You were both brilliant tonight. Be proud of yourselves. America is going to remember why they loved you in the first place.”

Brenna hugged us both before going into her spiel about voting and keeping us on the air. I mugged and grinned for the cameras, but I wasn’t really listening. Somewhere in this theater there was someone who wanted me hurt, and I had no way of knowing who it was.

Anders took my hand when we were dismissed, and we ran offstage together. I was starting to think that things were going to be okay between us when we passed the dividing line between “public” and “backstage,” and he dropped my hand like it had burnt him.

“You made me look like an idiot out there,” he spat, whipping around to hit me with the full force of his glare. “All that praise? Was for you finally getting your head out of your ass. Thanks a fucking lot, Valerie.”

“What did you want me to do?” I demanded. “I couldn’t phone it in. Not with elimination on the line. What the hell do you want from me? First you wanted me to dance like my life depended on it, and now you’re mad because I did! Make up your mind.”

“Elimination is only on the line because you couldn’t bring your A-game before you screwed everything up!” Anders shook his head. “I hope you get eliminated anyway. I want a new partner.”

He turned and stalked away, leaving me to stare after him.

There was a soft knocking to my left. I turned. Pax and Lyra were behind me, matching looks of concern and confusion on their faces. I sighed.

“Anders isn’t happy with being in the bottom,” I said.

“You think?” asked Lyra. “We watched you on the monitors. You were amazing.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You up next?”

She nodded, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I realized with a pang that I might have made her situation a lot more difficult. I’d already decided I was going to have to walk away from this life again—and this time, it would have to stick. I couldn’t be Valerie and Verity; one of me had to give, and when you got right down to it, I liked Verity more. She had a family. She had a husband she loved, and who loved her in return. She had a colony of talking mice that would remember her forever. She had everything, and Valerie only had the dance floor. It wasn’t a hard choice to make . . . but Lyra didn’t have it.

Lyra was real. Lyra belonged here. And by dancing as well as I had, I’d put her in even more danger of elimination.

“You’re going to be amazing,” I said, putting every ounce of conviction I could into the words. “You always are, I mean. There’s a reason you beat me the first time, and you’re probably going to beat me again.”

“You really think so?” she asked. There was a pleading note in her voice that seemed almost alien when stacked against her usual unshakeable confidence.

“I absolutely do,” I said. “You’re one of the best dancers I’ve ever met. You can dance rings around anyone who thinks they can beat you. Now get out there and show America how much they screwed up last week.”

“You’re a good friend, Valerie,” said Lyra. She stepped forward, hugged me, and then was gone, letting Pax pull her toward the stage.

I watched them pass through the curtain that kept stage and backstage separate. I’d have to hurry if I wanted to get to the monitors in time to see them dance. I didn’t move.

A light scuff from behind me alerted me to the person approaching. I didn’t turn. Dancers walk softly, but they don’t walk that softly. I was about to meet either an ally or an enemy, and either way, I was staying where I was.

“Hey,” said Alice. “The halls below are deserted. No one’s gone in or out.”

“They wouldn’t need to before they had a sacrifice,” I said, finally turning to look at her.