Chapter 3 - The Master Password
The silence in the studio grew so profound that the distant hum of the building's air conditioning sounded like a roaring engine. Coach Vance stared at her phone screen, her thumb hovering nervously over the glass before she abruptly locked the device and shoved it deep into her pocket.
"Get back to stretching, girls," Coach Vance ordered, her voice uncharacteristically shaky as she avoided meeting Zoe's piercing gaze. "Practice starts now."
"Wait," Zoe said, refusing to back down. She took two steps forward, blocking the office entrance. "If the digital scores were updated at midnight, and the board doesn't meet until Friday, who put Chloe's name at the top of the list? Because I know for a fact the master admin password hasn't changed since last year."
Coach Vance stiffened, her eyes narrowing into cold slits. "Watch your tongue, Zoe. You are treading on dangerous ground. Your scholarship is hanging by a very thin thread as it is. Do you really want to throw away four years of hard work over a corps de ballet position?"
"It’s not just a corps position," Maya spoke up for the first time, her voice small but clear as she wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve. "It’s the principal solo for Giselle. It’s my mother’s legacy."
Chloe snorted from across the room where she was stretching her hamstrings. "Your mother was a washed-up corps dancer who got fired for missing rehearsals, Maya. Get over yourself."
Zoe clenched her fists, ready to lunge again, but Maya gently touched her wrist, shaking her head. Zoe took a deep breath, reigning in her fury. She knew physical violence wouldn't solve this; she needed proof, and she needed it before Friday.
After practice ended, the studio emptied rapidly. Zoe lingered near the costume racks, pretending to fix her duffel bag zipper while keeping a sharp eye on Coach Vance’s desk through the half-open office blinds.
Inside the office, Coach Vance was frantically typing on her desktop computer, her face illuminated by the harsh blue glow of the monitor. Through the glass, Zoe saw Coach Vance pull a small, black USB drive from her desk drawer and plug it into the front port of the tower.
A moment later, the office printer hummed to life, slowly spitting out a single sheet of paper.
Coach Vance grabbed the paper, glanced at it once, and gasped. She reached for her phone again, dialing frantically with trembling fingers.
Before Zoe could creep closer to hear the conversation, a heavy hand slammed down on her shoulder, making her jump out of her skin.
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"Looking for something, scholarship girl?" a deep, unfamiliar male voice whispered right beside her ear.
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