Chapter 2

Seeing this, I kind of felt guilty and took Leo to the hospital. He lay in the hospital bed, his eyes half-closed.

He whispered, “I want to retire.”

Hearing this, I didn’t move and just watched him quietly.

He continued, “You should retire, too.”

He reached out and placed his hand over mine. “Riley can take over your spot in the orchestra; there’s no need to worry. My condition means I can’t handle tuning anymore. It’ll just be the two of us living at home from now on.”

I gently pulled my hand away, showing no emotion on my face. In that parallel timeline, the version of me who had been used as disposable labor for eighteen years had accepted Leo’s proposal out of guilt.

I had let Riley take my place as first violinist. I had become an unpaid live-in caregiver, living a life of suffering and mediocrity. I had sacrificed the glory and the life that should have been mine.

Seeing my silence, Leo assumed I had agreed. After all, when I first learned he had been injured because of me, I had wept until I nearly fainted. He knew exactly how to exploit that guilt.

“I’m going to the orchestra office,” I said with no emotion.

He smiled with satisfaction when he heard this. As I left the hospital room, my gaze sharpened.

I pushed open the door to the orchestra office, and Sam looked up at me. “Regarding your company-sponsored assignment,"” he said, “Mr. Dawn said you’d be staying home to look after him and couldn’t go. He asked to have the spot given to Riley instead.”

Sure enough, everything in the documentary had a trail leading back to this. I looked Sam in the eyes and said, “I can go.”

Sam was taken aback and asked, “He said you two had already discussed it.”

I took the documents I’d prepared out of my bag. A thick stack of them. They were all my award certificates, letters of recommendation from professors, and records of my original compositions from the past few years.

“He can’t speak for me; I can go,” I said firmly, looking straight at Sam.

Sam fell silent for a few seconds, then closed the folder. “Then the spot remains yours. Just make sure you sort things out with Mr. Dawn and Riley.”

I nodded and added one more thing, “Sam, could you please hold off on announcing the list for a few days?”

Sam nodded and said, “Sure.”

When I got home, I saw Leo’s and Riley’s shoes in the entryway.

“You’re back.” He walked out and pointed toward the music room. “Riley is going on the sponsored tour in a week. Her lease is up, so she’s staying here for a few days before she leaves.”

I saw Riley walk out, holding my violin. She blinked, looking entirely entitled. “Layla, my violin is broken. I’m borrowing yours to practice. You don’t mind, do you?”

Before I could even speak, Leo made the decision for me. “She doesn’t need it anymore. Go ahead and use it.”

I turned to look at the living room table, where the sheet music for the variations I’d spent three years composing lay spread out. I raised my eyebrows and asked out loud, “You took my sheet music?”

Leo didn’t look at me; his voice was calm and unhurried. “You won’t be needing it anymore, so I thought Riley might as well take it for the competition.”

Riley smiled, wearing the look of a victor. “Layla, you have to stay home and look after Leo, but the orchestra can’t be without a soloist. I have no choice but to step in for you.”

I walked over and gathered up all the sheet music. Then I walked up to Riley and took the violin from her hands.

Leo’s brows furrowed immediately, and his eyes darkened. “Layla, what are you doing?”

I didn’t want to reveal my plan too soon. I planned to make them be proud first then trampled on their expectations.

I let a look of concern appear on my face at just the right moment and softened my tone. “Your condition requires quiet and rest; there can be no violin music in the house. I’ll give it to Riley when she’s ready to go abroad.”

The furrow in Leo’s brow smoothed out, and he rubbed his palm against my shoulder. “Alright. This place is in a busy downtown area; I don’t like it either. We’ll sell the house in a while and move to a detached house in the suburbs, somewhere quiet.”

I remembered the documentary; how, when I had prepared to sell the house and leave, I discovered that Leo had already transferred the title of the house’s holder to Riley’s name.

Not only had I lost my job, but I had also failed to hold onto the property my parents left me. I looked up at the man before me.

Eighteen years in agony and suffering, I wouldn’t let that time repeat itself again.

I answered softly, “Okay.”