Chapter Eight Sienna“Can you all say hi to your new ballet teacher, Miss Sienna?”
Helen, the studio owner, insisted on giving me a proper introduction to my very first class. A dozen miniature ballerinas are sitting on the studio floor, looking up at me with big, curious eyes. I feel like the new kid on her first day of school. Except I’m the teacher.
“Hiii, Miss Siennna,” they singsong in unison, a high-pitched chorus of three- and four-year-old girls, but it’s music to my ears.
Miss Sienna. That sounds so official.
One little girl yells out “You’re pretty!” which starts a giggle fit among the group.
I smile and wave back at the class. My class. It’s hard to believe that these twelve little ballerinas are going to be my responsibility.
“They’re all yours,” Helen whispers, laying a r
