For a moment, the room waited for another mistake, another reason to laugh. Instead—music.
Soft. Perfect. Hauntingly familiar.
The sound spread through the ballroom like a memory no one wanted to remember. One by one, the laughter collapsed into silence. Glasses stopped halfway to lips. Smiles faded without permission.
The tuxedoed man froze.
“Who taught you that?” he demanded, suddenly unsure.
The girl didn’t stop playing.
“My mother.”
Something broke in his expression.
He stepped closer. Slower now. Not powerful anymore—afraid.
“What was her name?”
The girl lifted her hands from the piano.
A silver key on a thin chain caught the chandelier light.
His breath stopped.
“…no…”
From the balcony above, a woman’s voice shattered the silence:
“She’s alive?!”
