Page 112 of Faultlines

“You didn’t know that.”

Within twenty minutes, they’ve seamlessly integrated themselves into rehearsal.

Lucy takes charge of costume organization with military efficiency. The rustle of fabric accompanies her precise instructions.

Sloane, meanwhile, launches herself into the role of assistant director. At one point, I find her holding a clipboard upside down while dispensing acting advice to three bewildered teens, their expressions a mixture of confusion and awe.

Later, I find Sloane trying to fix a prop with a hot glue gun, the sharp smell of melting plastic wafting through the theater.

“Why do you have a glue gun?” I ask.

“I think the more important question is why you don’t have a glue gun.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“It answers my question.”

Within the second hour, Sloane has convinced half the cast she once turned down a Broadway contract. The story grows more elaborate with each retelling.

Lucy finally intervenes, announcing, “She has never been to Broadway.”

Sloane shrugs, a defiant grin playing on her lips. “I saw Hamilton.”

“On TV. That doesn’t count.”

“I feel it counts spiritually.”

The students adore both of them. Before I know it, the evening has passed much more quickly than my first night as director. I focus on scene transitions and missed cues.

As I gather my notes at the end of rehearsal, I hear someone call my name.

“Claire?”

I look up to find Jennifer Starling approaching. Mona stands several feet behind her, talking animatedly with Ellie.

She offers a small, hesitant smile. “Do you have a minute?”

“Of course.”

She glances toward the girls, then lowers her voice. “I heard what happened.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that the news is already spreading, but I believed I had a few more days.

Her expression fills with concern. “I’m sorry,” she says, her tone leaving no doubt.

“Thank you.”

“I kept going back and forth about whether to say anything. After our conversation at the grocery store, pretending I didn’t know just didn’t feel right.”

And I understand that completely. “I’m glad you did.”

She folds her arms loosely across her chest and glances toward Mona and Ellie, a fond smile touching her lips.

“They’re great kids.”

“They are.”

“Mona’s been worried about Ellie. She doesn’t know anything other than that you guys moved out.”