Kailee’s chest tightened. She hadn’t anticipated this twist. Albin’s glowing praise had handed Elizabeth the moment she had so desperately craved for herself.
Kailee’s lack of musical expertise left her fumbling for a response, her mind racing to regain control.
Beside her, Sandra’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. Years of piano training lent her confidence as she remarked coolly, “The opening isn’t exactly difficult. Transcriptions are everywhere. It doesn’t even compare to what Albin played earlier.”
A few voices murmured in agreement, emboldened by Sandra’s remarks.
Elizabeth, a small-town girl with limited resources, had cultivated a skill that outshone the polished education of the elite, making their privilege seem almost trivial.
Elizabeth’s hands stilled briefly on the keys, her head tilted as though gathering her focus.
The audience shifted, assuming the performance had ended, but then—
Before they could exhale, the notes erupted again, freezing the dismissive smirks on their faces.
Elizabeth’s fingers flew across the keys, each movement fluid and precise, the ease of her touch speaking of a deep, unspoken connection with the piano.
The music swelled with grandeur, each note resonating with the wisdom of someone who had seen life in its entirety, offering a truth that words could never capture. It was as though sunlight streamed through after a storm, filling the room with warmth and boundless vitality.
Her playing defied expectations, carrying a boldness that transcended gender, daring the audience to look past convention.
How could a small-town girl, now a seemingly ordinary housewife, summon such breathtaking grandeur?
Elizabeth was lost in the music, her world narrowing to the keys beneath her fingers and the emotions they unleashed.
Her features, serene moments ago, now seemed to glow, like a rose in full bloom under a sudden burst of sunlight.
Oliver sat motionless, his cigarette smoldering to ash between his fingers, forgotten in the spellbinding moment.
A faint smile tugged at his lips, his gaze softening with unguarded admiration.
He couldn’t look away—this version of Elizabeth was utterly captivating.
Albin, a lifelong music enthusiast with years of study under his belt, found himself spellbound. He had never conceded superiority to another pianist—until now.
But Elizabeth’s performance transported him to the realm of his teacher’s idol, leaving him awestruck and humbled.
As the final note faded, Elizabeth rose gracefully from the bench. The guests sat frozen, their minds racing to grasp what they had just experienced.
No one in the room had anticipated witnessing a performance of this caliber, least of all from Elizabeth.
Elizabeth approached Melany with a soft smile, gently taking her hand. “Happy birthday, Melany.”
Melany’s voice trembled with emotion. “My dear, this is the finest gift I’ve ever received.” Patting Elizabeth’s hand, Melany said warmly, “You must have worked so hard for this. With everything you’ve had to do, you still found the time to master something so extraordinary.”
Elizabeth’s smile grew faint. “I’m just glad it brought you joy,” she said, skirting the sentiment.
Guilt flickered in Elizabeth’s chest. The melody wasn’t entirely hers—it had been Gracie’s favorite tune to hum, her voice carrying it on lazy afternoons.
Back in her small town, with no means to afford proper lessons, Elizabeth had clung to this tune, repeating it endlessly until it was etched into her soul. She knew its contours more intimately than beginner staples like Für Elise.
Who could have imagined that this simple melody, once a private comfort, would turn out to be Josh Morrison’s final masterpiece?
