The young ballerina quickly rises to her feet. We’re close enough to see embarrassment shade her face. Hurrying, she continues the dance like nothing happened. She looks shorter than the girls next to her. Charlie careens back to whisper to us, “Who is that?” To free my hands, I bite onto the cookie I’m eating and flip through the program. Oscar is checking NDAs for her name on his cellphone. Since Beckett works here, the dancers have had background security checks. Oscar finds her first. He leans forward and whispers, “Roxanne Ruiz. She’s eighteen.”
