Charles met them later that evening in the studio's back office alongside Judge Mercer. The four adults sat around the small desk while Annie stretched on the floor nearby, counting quietly to herself as she held each position exactly as she had been drilled.
"This will bring intense media attention," Mercer noted, reviewing the foundation's rider. "Press, corporate donors, sponsors... all of them will want access to the asset."
Lena looked directly at Charles. "Victor is going to try to leverage this immediately."
Charles's face remained flat. "Victor already called my office. I told him explicitly that nothing changes without your written approval. The boundary stands."
Lena leaned back in her chair, studying his features. "You keep saying that, Mr. Whitmore."
"And I keep executing it, Ms. Bell."
Mercer folded the contract sheet and placed it back in the file. "If Annie attends this showcase, we need to implement additional legal protection layers—image rights, performance contracts, and travel guardianship frameworks. This is the exact stage where many young performers are exploited if their parents don't hold the legal shield."
Lena nodded firmly. "Then we execute the shield properly, Judge."
Across the room, Annie completed her final hamstring extension, stood up, and walked over to the desk. "Am I going to dance on a real big stage now, Miss Caroline?"
Caroline turned to look at her. "Yes, Annie. But remember the core rule I taught you: a big stage is just a wooden floor with more chairs in the room. The dance remains exactly the same."
Annie looked at the gold logo on the paper. "Is all of this because of the ballroom?"
All four adults went quiet, looking at the six-year-old. Charles answered her softly, his voice devoid of any corporate polish.
"No, Annie," he said. "This is entirely because of all the days *after* the ballroom."