CHAPTER 2: The Letter in the Case
Julian dismissed the gala within ten minutes, escorting Lily into his private study away from prying eyes and flashing phone cameras. He wrapped a soft cashmere blanket over her frail shoulders, noticing the subtle scars along her small wrists and the worn leather of her wheelchair.
“Where is Clara?” Julian asked gently, kneeling so they were at eye level. He already dreaded the answer; Clara had never abandoned anything she loved, and if Lily was alone at an orphanage benefit, the worst was true.
Lily reached into a side pouch of her wheelchair and produced a yellowed, wax-sealed envelope. “She gave me this before she fell asleep at the hospice. She said, *‘When the piano speaks, give him the truth.’*”
Julian’s hands trembled as he broke the wax seal. The handwriting was undeniably Clara’s—elegant, sweeping, yet shaky toward the end.
*Julian,* the letter began. *If you are reading this, Lily found her way to you. I never hid her to punish you. When the accident took my legs and your family threatened to ruin your career if you stayed with me, I chose your future over our comfort. But Lily was born with your soul and your ears. She was born paralyzed from the waist down, just as I was after the crash, but her spirit flies when she touches the keys. Protect her from the world, Julian. And protect her from your family.*
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Julian pressed the parchment against his chest, tears soaking the ink. He had believed Clara left him for another life. In reality, she had sacrificed everything to shield his budding legacy.
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