Last Thursday, I was having a wig fitting for the role of the Queen in Cinderella, ready to begin rehearsing next month. The part, which I signed up for six weeks ago, promised a year-long contract – and with it, a rare level of stability.
Three days later, I received a text from a friend offering her sympathy that the production was closing, and saying she was sure I would get another role soon. I had no idea what she was talking about, so she sent me a link to an online article. I felt my stomach drop.
