"Go. Play 'Wedding in a Dream.'" He pointed a commanding finger at the white grand piano on the stage.
*Wedding in a Dream.*
The piece I had played for him at our wedding. Back then, I was brimming with joy, foolish enough to believe I had married for love.
Now, the song was a death warrant.
I shook my head violently. My hands flew up, signing rapidly: *[I'm not feeling well. I don't want to play.]*
Joshua didn't understand sign language, but he understood defiance. He seized my wrist, his grip like iron, and dragged me toward the stage.
"Faith, don't test me." His voice was low, dangerous. "There are important partners here tonight. If you dare embarrass me, I will cut off the payments for your mother's grave."
A chill ran down my spine.
*Mom.*
She was my last soft spot, my only tether to this world.
He shoved me onto the piano bench. The spotlight blinded me, searing my retinas. Below the stage, countless eyes bore into me, waiting like wolves for a lamb to stumble.
Trembling, I placed my hands on the keys. I couldn't hear a thing, but the geography of the instrument was etched into my muscle memory.
I closed my eyes and pressed the first key.