Harper lifted her hands with the audience. She saw Odessa seated in the third row, her eyes shining, and beside her Victor Dane struggling to keep his applause until the end. He was watching Chloe move the cardboard door with the others. His daughter wasn’t at the center of the picture. She was essential to it.
The children finished without a final bow from a single hero. They stood together in the courtyard, eleven faces lit by rechargeable lamps, and the audience rose to applaud.
Harper was crying before she realized it.
The celebration lasted only a minute. The first performance had ended, and the next audience would soon arrive. Kieran called for the frames to be reset. Sachi checked the batteries. Nell untied the bird from her wrist and placed it carefully on a clean table.
Then she noticed that one of the wheels beneath the cardboard door had cracked. It had held for the first performance but might collapse during the second.
‘Harper,’ she said, ‘we need a different way to move it.’
Harper came over, examined the damaged wheel, and considered her tools. ‘We have half an hour.’
A man in the audience approached. He introduced himself as Leon Ward, a retired cabinetmaker. He had come because his neighbor’s daughter was performing. He offered to help make a temporary sled from spare wood.
Harper looked at Nell. ‘What do you think?’
Nell inspected the broken wheel. ‘If it stays low and slides smoothly, it might work.’
Leon smiled. ‘Sounds as if I have a foreman.’
The children laughed. For the next twenty minutes, Harper, Leon, and Kieran worked beside the table while the others reset their figures. The replacement was ugly but sturdy. The door glided without tilting. They tested it five times, then declared it ready.
At seven-fifty, Brightline’s visitors began arriving at the alley entrance. Several carried glossy programs. Some looked embarrassed after discovering the show they had been promised was full. Harper explained the seating limit and directed them toward the second performance line. Most waited patiently. A few left for restaurants.
Julian stood among them, watching the children prepare. He looked less certain than he had that morning.
CHAPTER NINE: TWO CITIES, ONE NIGHT
The second performance began with sixty people seated and several dozen waiting outside for whatever sounds drifted into the alley. Harper had arranged with Tamsin to keep the outside area clear, but she worried when the crowd grew. She asked Victor and Gemma to help direct people away from the delivery entrance. Odessa took responsibility for explaining why everyone could not simply move forward for a closer look.
‘It’s a small space,’ she told one impatient guest. ‘We have a limit for a reason. You can hear the show from here, or you can come back for the next production the children choose to make.’
