Chapter 5
The house felt different when we arrived.
Usually, Lucinda’s voice filled every room before she entered it.
That night, there was silence.
My father took me to the study.
Harper followed.
Lucinda came last, furious and perfect.
He placed my broken violin pieces on his desk.
One by one.
The body.
The neck.
The strings.
The cracked bridge.
Then he looked at Lucinda.
“Explain.”
She folded her arms.
“I made a decision.”
“You destroyed Amelia’s instrument.”
“I corrected favoritism.”
My father laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Favoritism?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “Your daughter gets everything. The best teacher. The best dress. The solo. Your attention.”
I stared at her.
My best dress had been hemmed twice because I had grown.
Harper’s dress was new from Paris.
My violin lessons were paid from the trust my mother left me.
But truth did not matter to Lucinda.
Only winning did.
My father opened a drawer and removed a folder.
Lucinda noticed it and went pale.
“What is that?”
“Something I should have read sooner.”
He opened it.
Inside were emails.
Receipts.
Copies of checks.
A report from the school.
Mrs. Bell had written complaints.
Three of them.
Lucinda had intercepted them before my father saw them.
My stomach turned.
“What complaints?”
My father’s eyes softened when he looked at me.
“About missing practice time. About your violin being hidden. About you coming to lessons upset.”
I remembered.
The days I could not find my case.
The days Lucinda said the driver was unavailable.
The days she told me Mrs. Bell had canceled.
I thought I was unlucky.
I had been managed.
My father looked at Lucinda.
“How long?”
She lifted her chin.
“You were grieving. Someone had to raise her properly.”
Harper whispered, “Mom, stop.”
Lucinda spun on her.
“Do not betray me.”
Harper stepped back.
I stood between them before I thought.
“Don’t talk to her like that.”
Lucinda smiled at me.
“There she is. The little queen.”
May you like
My father closed the folder.
“No. There I am. The father who should have seen it.”
