“…I’ll marry her right here tonight.”
For one moment, the ballroom froze.
Then the laughter exploded.
Cruel laughter.
Mocking laughter.
It echoed off the marble floors and glittering chandeliers.
Hundreds of eyes locked onto Lily, waiting for her to panic… to cry… to drop the tray and run away.
Alexander leaned closer to her.
“Go ahead,” he whispered coldly. “Try it.”
His voice dropped lower.
“Or go back to wiping tables where you belong.”
The humiliation burned through her chest like fire.
“You’re just a waitress,” he continued softly. “Art, beauty, greatness… those things aren’t meant for people like you.”
A Memory
Lily’s stomach twisted painfully.
The room pressed in on her.
But her feet didn’t move.
She closed her eyes.
And suddenly the ballroom disappeared.
Instead she heard a gentle voice from years ago.
Her mother’s voice.
“Don’t let the noise outside steal the music inside you,” her mother used to say.
“A violin always recognizes the person who truly listens.”
Her mother’s name had been Elena Navarro.
One of the greatest violinists America had ever known.
Before illness had taken her.
Lily opened her eyes.
Slowly—carefully—she walked to a nearby table and set down the tray.