I carefully gathered the pieces of my grandfather’s violin and placed them back into the velvet case.
Then I stood.
Mom frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“To perform.”
Vanessa’s smile vanished.
“With what?”
I looked at her.
And for the first time that evening, I smiled.
“With the violin you don’t know about.”
Two years earlier, I had won an international chamber competition in Vienna.
Afterward, Eleanor Hayes, a billionaire arts patron and chairwoman of the orchestra foundation, had offered me private sponsorship.
For major performances, her foundation allowed me to use a 1718 Stradivarius.
Its estimated value was nearly nine million dollars.
And that evening, it was already secured backstage.
Vanessa’s face changed.
Only for a second.
Then she recovered.
“Whatever,” she said. “You still don’t have the dress.”
I walked past her.
“You can keep it.”
Her smile returned instantly.
She thought she had won.
She had no idea she had just exchanged my dress for something far more valuable.
Her own future.
PART 2
The Stradivarius was already waiting beneath the bright lights of the secured instrument room when I arrived.
Maestro Cole took one look at my expression.
“What happened?”
“My violin was destroyed.”
His face tightened.
“Accident?”
“No.”
That single word changed the atmosphere.
Eleanor Hayes was standing nearby in an elegant black suit.
She turned toward me.
“Who destroyed it?”
“My sister.”
I expected sympathy.
Instead, she asked a practical question.
“Was your sister authorized to be in the restricted backstage area?”
That was when something clicked in my mind.
Security cameras.
Six months earlier, a musician’s bow had been stolen backstage.
Afterward, the foundation had installed high-definition cameras throughout the dressing-room corridor.
“I invited my family to the performance,” I said. “But they weren’t authorized to enter secured areas.”
Eleanor turned toward the head of security.
“Preserve all footage.”
Applause sounded from the auditorium.
Seven minutes until I was due onstage.
Then Vanessa appeared at the far end of the hallway.
Wearing my emerald dress.
She walked toward us as though absolutely nothing had happened.
“There you are,” she said. “Mom said we should take pictures before you embarrass yourself.”
Then she noticed Eleanor.
Her entire demeanor changed.
Vanessa had always been extremely good at recognizing people who might be useful to her.
Her smile became warmer.
Her posture straightened.
“Oh my God. Ms. Hayes?”
Eleanor gave her a restrained nod.