Chapter 5

Rhiannon's POV

His fury echoed through the cavernous rehearsal hall, mercilessly ripping away the last shred of my dignity and stomping it into the dirt.

Scattered chuckles broke out across the orchestra. Everyone knew I only held the first-chair accompanist seat because of my title as "Mrs. Sterling." To them, this was proof that I was nothing more than dead weight.

"Edward, please don't be mad at her," Lauren said, stepping forward and gently resting a hand on his forearm. "Rhiannon hasn't practiced in a long time. It's only natural she'd make a mistake. Why don't... why don't I just play that difficult back-and-forth passage as an extended solo instead? I don't want an accompaniment issue throwing off next week's competition."

Edward looked at Lauren, the fire in his eyes cooling slightly. Then he whipped his head back toward me, looking at me like I was a piece of trash. "Did you hear that? Starting today, that solo passage belongs permanently to Lauren. You aren't even qualified to play backup. Your fundamentals are so atrocious, I honestly wonder what on earth your grandmother was teaching you all those years!"

That single sentence stomped straight through my final boundary.

Slowly, I lowered the instrument. I didn't tear up and offer excuses like I used to. I didn't bow my head like a frightened rabbit waiting for forgiveness.

I stood up, meeting Edward's furious glare head-on. My eyes were as flat and still as stagnant water.

"Someone altered the score," I said evenly.

"You're still making excuses?!" Edward sneered, not bothering to glance at the stand. "You lack the skill, so you blame the sheet music? Rhiannon, not only has your playing gone to hell, but your character has turned completely rotten. Lauren practices over ten hours a day. And you? Aside from using your grandmother's illness to guilt-trip me, what are you actually good for?"

Standing right behind him, Lauren silently mouthed two words at me:

*Useless trash.*

My hands curled into tight fists. My trimmed nails bit deep into my palms, sending sharp spikes of pain through my nerves. But not a single tear fell.

"Is that so?" I looked at Edward, a slow, mocking smile curling the corner of my lips. "Since I'm so worthless, Mr. Sterling, you can have the first-chair accompaniment back."

I dropped the cheap practice violin onto the chair with a dull, hollow thud.

"What kind of tantrum is this?" Edward froze, caught off guard.

"It's not a tantrum. I'm just disgusted." I turned around, squared my shoulders, and walked toward the exit under the stunned stares of over a hundred musicians.

"Rhiannon! If you walk out that door today, don't you dare think you'll ever touch an instrument again!" Edward's enraged roar chased after me.

I didn't even break my stride.

Touch an instrument?

No. I was walking out to take back the entire world.

That night.

In the hospital's private ICU room, the only sound was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the life support monitor.

I sat by the edge of the bed, holding Grandma's age-spotted, limp hand. I pressed my cheek against her weathered skin, feeling the faint, fading warmth.

"Grandma," I whispered into the dim room, my voice quiet, steady, and vibrating with a strange, fierce strength.

"I didn't cry today."

"I bought my flight to Paris for seven days from now."

"I'm going to the Conservatoire. I'm going to finish the dream you never got to see through. I'm going to make sure the entire world hears your name."

I lifted my head, my eyes cutting through the shadows like cold steel. "As for Edward... Grandma, I don't want him anymore. Not in this life, not in the next, not ever."

Outside the window, the night deepened into ink. A storm was brewing on the horizon.