Silver -chp 11--Chapter 11-
Margot Antonin's voice boomed across the stage as she called for the young woman who had become her personal assistant. She brushed past the ballerinas and chorus members, the lesser performers and the stagehands. In her hurry, she managed to knock over one of the mannequins, chipping its dainty face.
"Rosette!" she called again. Pausing, she stared down into the orchestra pit and spotted the squirming conductor.
"Maestro, have you seen Mademoiselle Elie today?" Margot questioned, her voice soft and stern at the same time. His pale face popped up to look at her and he shook his head.
"No, Madame. I have not seen the girl. It is not yet ten."
Margot sighed and spotted a small cluster of ballerinas, standing in the folds of the heavy, velvet curtains, giggling and whispering and watching her. Her dark eyes fell upon the young Adele. With great dignity, she approached the dancer.
Silver -chp 10--Chapter 10-
As Rosette continued painting the feminine features on the face of a mannequin that was to be used in an upcoming production, it was hard for her to see, due to her tired eyes. For roughly ten hours she had been scrubbing boards, drawing measurements for platforms, stitching up costumes, and now she was adding detail to a wooden face where none was needed. Anything that she could find to distract her mind was welcomed, but sadly, there was little to be done today. She made up jobs, frequently redoing other people's work. Her fingers were hurting her. There was no telling how many times she had pricked them while mindlessly stitching bows and flowers to tutus.
She knew Andrea would tell her nothing. That was his nature. Just as she was protective of Andrea, Andrea was protective of Rosette. Both were stubborn; a trait they had inherited from their father. If Andrea
Silver -chp 9--Chapter 9-
When Rosette awoke, she was in the dressing room. From the window above her head, a stream of white morning light poured in. Sitting up, Rosette moaned. The buttons of her dress had been undone, and the sash removed, but nonetheless, she was still in her only nice dress. Kicking off the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she held her head in her hands and tried to remember what had happened the night before. With a start, she leapt off of the bed and spun around.
He had been there! That voice had spoken to her! He was there! But how? How did he find her? And where had he been? He had called himself a ghost was that what he was? After all, she heard him all around her and never once saw him.
Finally getting off of the bed, Rosette opened up the drawer to pull out her silver box. She stared at the