“From the top,” Ms. Bryant said, emphasizing her displeasure by punching her fists down on her chai-colored pencil skirt.

The dance chorus was rehearsing the ice-fairy number. It was the point in the story where Penny — as Gerda in her quest to find her playmate Kay — was brought to me, said ice fairy. My fey little forest companions lead Gerda to my tinseled cottage — another team’s set designs — where I warn her of, and provision her for, the perils ahead, all the while dancing my little fairy tail off. All Penny had to do was look lost and frightened, in this scene, anyway.

It was suddenly my turn to feel chilled when I sensed someone watching me. From the wings, Brigid’s level-straight form emerged. I still was yet to warm to the celebrated stranger.

Ms. Bryant looked at her watch. “Let’s wrap here for the day.”

“Did I miss it?” I was surprised to see my dad hurrying in behind Brigid.

“We just finished,” I said, relief running down my neck and even collecting in the cups of my sports bra. I wiped my brow with my forearm.

“What a shame,” Brigid said. “Your father wanted to see you dance.”

“Mr. Higginbottom would prefer we keep the rehearsals closed,” Ms. Bryant said, walking over, her head angling to Brigid.

Clever, the way she made Higginbottom the heavy. Sure, he was the strict director type while she was his good-cop assistant; still, it was a way of confronting Brigid.

“But Mr. Higginbottom would surely make an exception for Kat’s father,” Brigid replied.

“Dad, really.” I stepped in between the two women. It was comforting to think that there was possibly another person in the county who wasn’t fawning over Brigid. “You’d just make me nervous. Can’t you wait until opening night like everyone else?”

“If I have to,” he said with a pout.

“Is Mr. Higginbottom in the choir room?” Brigid asked Ms. Bryant.

“Yes. He’s working with Matthew on his songs.”

“I’ll be back,” Brigid said to my dad in her best — though likely unintended — Terminator impression. “I have some music for him.”

After the chill of Brigid’s displaced air had settled, my dad extended his hand to Ms. Bryant. “Greg Leblanc, Kat’s dad. Pleased to meet you.”

“Sage Bryant,” she said, shaking his hand. “Kat’s design teacher.”

“Hmmm.” My dad stroked his chin. “Sage. An anagram of ages.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ms. Bryant said.

My dad loved word scrambles, particularly those involving names. Penny still liked to talk about how he’d reworked Penelopa into one apple in mere seconds. Tina hadn’t been quite as tickled with her Kerstina morphing into a stinker. She had been a good sport, though, and he eventually had her laughing at his weird skill. Ages, though; it reminded me of something Penny had reported about Ms. Bryant in her teacher profile article last fall.

“Is it true, Ms. Bryant, that you can guess anyone’s age within a year?”

“I do seem to have an unusual ability in that area.”

“Then how old do you think Brigid is?” I blurted out in a rush, my big mouth leaving my social graces at the starting blocks.

Ms. Bryant tapped her chin with her index finger. “Well, now,” she began. “I’m not sure . . .” She hesitated, her eyes fluttering up and down nervously.

“Where are your manners, Kat?” my dad asked. “Brigid may not appreciate this game.”

“Sorry,” I said, but thinking Dang it all.

“Though I’d like to play,” my dad said with a cheeky glint in his eye. “How about me? How old am I?”

Ms. Bryant studied my dad while biting her bottom lip with her top teeth — very nice, very white teeth that they were.

“Thirty-eight. I’m sure of it. Though I bet you often get taken for younger. Partly because you’re such a lover of games.”

“Yes. Yes. And yes,” my dad said. “Very impressive, but how did you know about the games?”

“The anagrams, of course. I guess we all have our quirky little talents,” Ms. Bryant said.

Brigid returned from the choir room, looking as indefinable as ever. She and my dad walked me to my car, but I was lost in my own thoughts. I wondered about Sage Bryant’s curious talent and even the way her very name was an anagram of it. I also wondered at her pegging my dad so accurately as a game player. And more than anything, I wondered just what kind of a game Brigid was up to here in Norse Falls.