CHAPTER 1: NOTES FROM THE PAST
Soft music played inside the old mansion. Guests filled the grand ballroom, men in tailored tuxedos and women in sweeping silk gowns moving in and out, holding drinks and talking in low voices. At the entrance, two large, muscular security guards in black suits checked invitation letters and ushered people inside.
George walked in, followed closely by his assistant, Simon.
“Are you not going to greet your grandfather?” Simon asked, sounding concerned.
“No,” George replied. His voice was cold and final.
“But it has been years since you two met, and..”
Simon stopped immediately when George turned to look at him.
The look in George’s eyes was sharp enough to silence him completely. His throat tightened, and the rest of his words disappeared. He lowered his head and followed quietly.
“We’re just going to drop off the gift for the old man,” George said nonchalantly.
Simon said nothing and followed him through the crowd. When they reached Mr. Edward, Simon stepped forward while George remained behind, clearly unwilling to face his grandfather even after all these years.
“George sent me to give you this,” Simon said, handing over the gift.
Mr. Edward accepted it with a pleased expression, but his eyes immediately searched the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of George.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“He just left,” Simon replied, already turning away.
Mr. Edward’s expression darkened slightly.
So, the boy will never forgive me? he thought bitterly, holding the gift tightly. But at least he remembered my birthday.
After confirming the gift had been delivered, George turned to leave. He had barely taken a few steps out of the ballroom when the piano began to play.
He stopped abruptly.
Simon, walking closely behind him, almost bumped into him.
For a moment, George didn’t move. His back remained turned toward the room, but his body had gone completely rigid. His fingers twitched faintly at his side, and his expression tightened as he recognized the music.
The melody wasn’t just familiar, it was the exact piece he used to play with her.
“We’re going back,” George said quietly.
He turned before Simon could respond.
“What…?” Simon said, startled by the sudden change.
But George was already moving.
He strode back into the ballroom, pushing through the crowd with quiet urgency, his focus locked ahead.
“There,” he muttered.
At the far end of the ballroom, beneath a softened wash of light, stood a piano surrounded by guests.
A girl sat at it.
She wore a maid’s uniform. Her back was straight, her posture controlled. Her hands moved across the keys with practiced precision, each note falling cleanly into place.
George stopped and watched her.
His breathing deepened as the melody continued without interruption.
