After he killed my daughter, he knelt down and begged me for forgiveness

"Is that Alex Henson? Oh my God, she looks so much older."

"I heard she's been missing for years—why would she show up dressed like that? Looks like street-stall junk."

"What's with her hands? Why does she keep them tucked in her sleeves?"

The whispers drifted over.

I straightened my back and walked toward the corner.

Marcus stood surrounded by guests, sharp in a black suit. Sophia clung to his arm, smiling.

When he saw me, his gaze darkened, but he didn't lash out.

Sophia released him and walked over.

"Alex, you made it. Sit down—the performance is about to start." She lowered her voice and leaned close to my ear. "Look around. Everyone here thinks I'm Mrs. Abbott. And what are you? A stray dog with nowhere to go. You really think you can fight me?"

I glanced at her makeup. "How's your piano practice going? Try not to butcher your scales."

Her expression stiffened, then twisted into a sneer. "Don't worry about me. You'll see soon enough."

The emcee took the stage. "Next, please welcome the renowned pianist Ms. Sophia Pruitt, performing Liszt's 'La Campanella'!"

Applause rose.

Sophia lifted her skirt hem, climbed the stage, bowed, and sat down.

The music began.

At first it was smooth enough, but when she hit the midsection with its big leaps, she started struggling. Notes scattered. The rhythm dragged.

Someone in the audience frowned.

Sophia suddenly stopped, stood up, and took the microphone.

"Sorry, everyone. This piece is too difficult, and my hand is a little uncomfortable today." She paused. "But as it happens, my sister—the former genius pianist Alex Henson—is also here. I'd like to invite her up to help me finish the second half. What do you all say?"

The spotlight hit me.

I narrowed my eyes at the stage.

She did it on purpose. She was the only person in Rongcheng who knew my hand was ruined.

"Alex Henson? Didn't she retire?"

"Let her play! Let's see if the genius is still there!"

Marcus looked at me. "Go. Sophia is giving you a chance—don't be ungrateful. Perfect time to get your feel back. Stop touching that worthless scrap metal all day and making your hands rough."

I sat in the shadows and didn't move.

His face darkened. He strode over and grabbed my wrist. "What are you still throwing a tantrum about? With this many people watching, do you want to humiliate Sophia?"

He squeezed hard—right where the bones had broken.

"I'm not going."

"You don't get to decide."

He dragged me up from my seat and shoved me toward the stage. "Play. If you don't play well today, I'll bulldoze your crappy repair shop flat."

I stumbled onto the stage.

The lights were blinding.

In front of me sat that familiar set of black-and-white keys.

Sophia stood by the piano, smiling.

Trembling, I reached out my right hand.

Under the lights, my hand was fully exposed.

A collective gasp rose from the audience.

"Oh my God, what happened to her hand?"

"That's horrifying—it looks like it was broken…"

Marcus stood below, frowning. "What are you spacing out for? Play!"

I placed my fingers on the keys.

Since you all want to hear it.

I pressed down.

Clang—

Noise.

My fingers couldn't bend, couldn't exert any strength. The instant I pressed down, sharp pain shot through me, and I ended up mashing a whole cluster of keys.

The room went dead silent.

Sophia covered her mouth in exaggerated alarm. "Alex, what's wrong with you? Did you do that on purpose? If you didn't want to help me, you could have just said so—why did you have to ruin my performance?"

"Mr. Abbott, we... we found something on the hillside behind the Abbott family estate..."

"Found what?"

The assistant's voice trembled.

"It's a grave... The tombstone has the child's name on it... She, she..."

It was like a bomb went off in Marcus Abbott's head.

He slowly looked at me.

I supported myself against the doorframe, laughed silently, and tears streamed down my face.

"Marcus Abbott, Lily is dead."

"She died five years ago, that snowy night..."

"Do you still remember where you were that night?"

Marcus Abbott's face turned deathly pale.

"I was sleeping... with Sophia Pruitt."

That sentence fell like a huge rock, crashing into dead silence.