Page 135 of The Proposition


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Gasps and whispers went up among the cast.

“Her injury last night was not an accident,” Atkins continued to read. “Investigation of the theater has revealed that the trapdoor was triggered with a remote sensor. Furthermore, a note from a potential saboteur was discovered near the theater elaborating on their motives. This was a deliberate act to intentionally harm Tatiana. She has been the target of continued harassment and victimization.”

Atkins paused to take a deep breath, and then went on.

“Although producing an off-Broadway show is an artistic endeavor, it is primarily a business venture with the goal of making a profit. Few shows, whether Broadway or off, have had financial success after suffering the loss of their lead actress before opening night. Such shows fail to generate media buzz, which in turn leads to reduced box office sales…”

Andy and I glanced at each other. He’s canceling the show.

“Guess I’d better dust off the resume,” Andy whispered.

But the rest of Vandercant’s note went in a different direction.

“While we do not know who this saboteur is,” Atkins said, “or what their primary motive is for targeting Tatiana, we must not allow it to dissuade us. I am increasing the budget for further theater renovations, including additional funding for security measures to ensure your safety. I have also hired an assistant for Director Atkins to be a permanent musical director and dance captain. I hope this will help you all bridge the gap between now and opening night. We will all have a jolly good time, and the show must go on.”

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

Atkins lowered the letter. “Congratulations, Nadia. You’re the new lead of The Proposition.”

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Nadia

“Congratulations, Nadia. You’re the new lead of The Proposition.”

The words ran by my ear without me comprehending them. I was still shocked by Tatiana’s six-week injury, and Vandercant’s letter about the increased funding. And the fact that Braden hadn’t shown up for rehearsal.

Wait. I’m the lead!

“Thank you, Director Atkins,” I said. “I’m up for the challenge.”

A few of the other cast members applauded. But only a few. Most of them stared at me with something strange in their eyes. I realized what it was a moment later.

Accusation.

They think I did this.

My elation turned bitter in my mouth.

“This is Carmina, the new musical director,” Atkins said. The woman who had followed him onto stage dipped her head in acknowledgment. Although she looked to be in her 40s, her hair was already stark white and pulled back in a bun that tightened her entire face in an angry expression.

“Rehearsal will be in a tight five,” Atkins said. “We have a lot of work to do between now and opening night. Nadia, can I speak with you a moment?”

He led me backstage, then down the hall to his office. He closed the door, then leaned against it with his arms crossed.

“Can you handle the pressure?” he asked. “This is a lot of responsibility to suddenly shoulder.”

“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ve been working hard outside of rehearsal to make sure I know all of Tatiana’s lines and tracks. I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said. “Are you the saboteur?”

The change of subjects caught me off guard. “I… What?”

“Are you the saboteur?” he repeated bluntly. “Did you injure Tatiana to take her spot?”

“Of course not!” I sputtered. “That’s ridiculous!”

He kept his face placid. “You have the most to gain by her absence, obviously. You were the one to find the saboteur’s letter. I couldn’t help but notice you and Ryan have become friendly these past few weeks. He could have helped you set up the traps, and when given the security cameras he left a giant blind spot in the sub-stage. I’m sorry to accuse you, but I need to hear it from your lips. For my own sanity.”

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