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When I rounded the last corner, onto Cactus, I could see the studio, looking just as I remembered it. The parking lot in front was empty, the vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. I couldn't run anymore I couldn't breathe; exertion and fear had gotten the best of me. I thought of my mother to keep my feet moving, one in front of the other.
當我轉過最后一個街角，沖進仙人掌街的時候，我能看到那間舞蹈教室了，它看上去依然是我記憶中的那個樣子。教室門前的停車位是空的，屋里所有的豎式窗簾都拉了下來。我跑不動了我甚至沒法呼吸，筋疲力盡和恐懼奪走了我的優勢。我想著我的母親，這才能讓自己邁動步子，一步接一步地往前走。
As I got closer, I could see the sign inside the door. It was handwritten on hot pink paper; it said the dance studio was closed for spring break. I touched the handle, tugged on it cautiously. It was unlocked. I fought to catch my breath, and opened the door.
當我走得更近些的時候，我看到了門里貼著的那張告示。那是一張手寫的，寫在深粉紅色的紙張上的告示，上面說舞蹈教室因為春假而暫時關閉。我伸手去摸扶手，警惕地擰動它。門沒鎖。我強迫自己穩住呼吸，然后打開了門。
The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The plastic molded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet smelled like shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, I could see through the open viewing window. The east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit. But the blinds were closed on the window.
大廳里陰暗又空曠，很是涼爽，空調嗡嗡響著。 那些塑料扶手椅靠墻疊放著，地毯聞起來像是洗發水的味道。西面的舞蹈室里很暗，我能從那扇敞開的觀察窗里看到那整個房間。東邊的那間更大的舞蹈室的燈亮著，但那邊的窗子的簾子拉了下來。
Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I couldn't make my feet move forward.
恐懼牢牢地抓住我，我簡直要被困在其中了。我沒法讓自己邁動步子。
And then my mother's voice called.
然后，我媽媽的聲音在大喊著。
Bella? Bella? That same tone of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the door, to the sound of her voice.
“貝拉？貝拉？”一模一樣的充滿了竭斯底里的恐懼的聲音。我奮力沖向那扇門，沖向她的聲音。
Bella, you scared me! Don't you ever do that to me again! Her voice continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.
“貝拉，你嚇壞我了！你可不能再這樣對我了！”當我奔進那間長長的，天花板很高的房間時，她的聲音繼續說著。
I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I heard her laugh, and I whirled to the sound.
我環顧四周，試圖找出她的聲音是在哪里發出來的。我聽到了她的笑聲，急忙轉過去面向她的聲音。
There she was, on the TV screen, tousling my hair in relief. It was Thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We'd gone to see my grandmother in California, the last year before she died. We went to the beach one day, and I'd leaned too far over the edge of the pier. She'd seen my feet flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. Bella? Bella? she'd called to me in fear.
她在那里，在電視屏幕上，如釋重負地撫弄著我的發。那是在感恩節，我那時十二歲。我們去看住在加利福尼亞的外祖母，那是在她去世的前一年。有一天我們去了海灘，我靠得離碼頭的邊緣太遠了。她看到我的腳有些不穩，試圖抓住我讓我保持平衡。“貝拉？貝拉？”她驚恐地沖我大喊。
