CHAPTER FIFTEEN G — THE FIRST REHEARSAL

The first rehearsal in the school cafeteria began with a disagreement over tape.
Ellis wanted bright yellow floor markings that every child could see.
The dance instructor preferred pale tape that would not distract from the costumes.
Nora listened to both and placed the bright tape on the floor herself.
“We can remove it for the performance,” she said.
“For now, everybody needs to know where the edge is.”
The children practiced without music while Ellis explained the safe waiting area.
He kept his instructions short and demonstrated each movement.
A boy named Caleb asked whether the old theater had really hurt someone.


Nora knelt beside him.
“Yes,” she said.
“I was hurt there.”
“Did you fall?”
“The floor moved when it shouldn’t have.”
Caleb looked at the cafeteria floor.
“This one doesn’t move.”
“That’s why we’re using it,” Nora replied.
Alisha watched from the doorway with her arms crossed.
After the rehearsal, she approached Ellis.
“My son says you used to work at the theater,” she said.
“I did.”
“Were you the man they blamed?”
Ellis held her gaze.
“Yes.”
Alisha glanced at the children gathering their bags.
“He said you told them how to stop if somebody fell.”
“That’s part of rehearsal.

”
“Nobody ever taught them that at the new center.”
Ellis looked down at the yellow tape.
“Then I’m glad we did.”
She thanked him and left.
He stood alone in the cafeteria for a moment.
When I approached, he said he had spent years avoiding rooms with stages.
“I thought I’d never work near one again,” he admitted.
“How does it feel?” I asked.
“Terrifying,” he said.
Then he picked up the remaining roll of tape.
“But I know where every child is supposed to stand.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN H — THE REPORT THAT ARRIVED TOO EARLY

Celeste called us on a Tuesday morning with troubling news.


A private engineering firm had released a statement declaring the new demonstration platform fundamentally safe.
The statement appeared on the entertainment company’s website before Celeste had completed her independent inspection.
“They haven’t examined the damaged control enclosure,” she said.
“They haven’t tested the full load either.”
Soren read the statement twice.
“It says the stage is safe under normal operating conditions,” he observed.
“That phrase can hide a lot of questions.”
The firm had based its opinion on design drawings supplied by the company.
Celeste had examined the physical machine and found differences from those drawings.
She invited the company’s engineers to attend a supervised inspection.


They declined.
The following day, a local radio host accused Nora’s supporters of trying to destroy a promising business.
He read part of the private report on air.
He did not mention the independent inspection.
Malik wanted to call the station and argue.
Nora stopped him.
“We need to know who actually tested the machine,” she said.
“A shouting match won’t tell us that.”
Ellis contacted the engineering firm directly.
A receptionist confirmed that no one from the firm had visited the exhibition hall.
The company’s statement had not claimed otherwise, but the radio host had implied that engineers had inspected the installed platform.


Ellis asked the firm to clarify its methods publicly.
Two days later, the firm posted a revised statement explaining that its review was limited to supplied drawings.
The radio host read the correction reluctantly.
Nora listened from my kitchen table.
“That won’t change everyone’s mind,” she said.
“It doesn’t have to,” I replied.
“It has to tell parents what was actually checked.”
She nodded and turned off the radio.
Then her phone rang.
The caller was Alisha.
“My son’s rehearsal group wants to know whether you’ll help them perform at the school,” she said.
Nora smiled for the first time that morning.


“Tell them we’re working on it,” she answered.