She opened the box, and inside was her old ballet dress. The pristine white tulle was still brand new, though she could no longer wear it. Beside it lay her international ballet gold medal trophy and a pair of ballet shoes with worn-out toes. She picked up the shoes, her fingertips tracing the patterns on them, remembering herself spinning and leaping on stage back then, and tears finally streamed down her face.
She took out her phone and dialed a number she hadn't heard from in a long time.
"Hello, it's me, Clara ."
A burst of ecstatic cheers came from the other end of the phone: " Clara ! You finally contacted me! I thought you were going to be stuck in that house for the rest of your life! You should have done this a long time ago. You're a natural ballerina, a top star who should have risen again long ago! When are you coming back to Paris? The company still has a place for you!"
Clara sniffed, her voice soft but with unprecedented determination: "We'll be leaving in seven days. But I need to go to Germany first for surgery, and then I'll rejoin the team."
"Okay! We'll wait for your news!"