“Didn’t she play Roschelle’s ‘My Love’?”
“It’s Lindsey’s ‘Aspiration’, but isn’t that still Roschelle’s work?”
“Is Alarieka insane? Here she goes again? One humiliation wasn’t enough? Everyone knows Lindsey Weaver is Roschelle’s pen name! She’s just impossible!”
“Exactly! Pure jealousy–she can’t stand Roschelle winning, so she’s lashing out to drag everyone down!”
Paloma’s gaze sharpened at Lindsey Weaver’s name, her brow furrowing as surprise flickered in her eyes. Security silenced the audience before she could hear more.
That name… Lindsey Weaver… rang a faint bell. Lost in thought, her eyes drifted toward Roschelle Whitaker seated diagonally behind her. One glance deepened Paloma’s suspicion. Though Roschelle maintained her usual composure, Paloma caught the tension in her eyes–the subtle tightening of her lips, the barely-there tremor in her hands. Roschelle stared rigidly at the stage, oblivious to Paloma’s gaze, every muscle wound tight as a spring. Fear. Dread.
Paloma shifted her attention to Kieran beside Roschelle. Even Kieran Argent looked grim, his obsidian eyes fixed on Alarieka with unreadable intensity. But deciphering Kieran was futile–the man remained unflappable even if the sky fell. As Paloma studied Roschelle, an elbow nudged her arm. A fellow judge leaned in, eyes gleaming.
“Ms. Wyatt, the drama’s unfolding.”
Paloma seized the cue. “Explain. What do you know?”
The judge smirked. “You really don’t know? Alarieka isn’t playing Roschelle’s ‘My Love’. She’s playing Lindsey Weaver’s ‘Aspiration’–the exact piece from that high school anniversary where…”
The story tumbled out: how Alarieka had accused Roschelle of plagiarism, only to get publicly humiliated when Roschelle proved the work her own. Paloma’s breath hitched. Stunned, she turned back to Alarieka.
Setting aside the scandal, Alarieka’s performance was… flawless. A single spotlight haloed her, isolating her in a pool of light. Her emerald beaded gown made her skin glow like moonlit snow, transforming her into something ethereal, dreamlike. Every note, every gesture radiated mastery–a devastating display of artistry that shattered the confidence of every “prodigy” in the room. Paloma’s eyelids grew heavy.
In her view, Alarieka’s skill surpassed even Rose’s. She had heard Rose perform “Love’s Affection,” but neither the piece nor the performance could match Alarieka’s “Yearning Sonata.” Based on past experience, Ms. Wyatt judged Alarieka would easily rank top three, possibly even contend for the championship against Rose. This was evident from the audience’s initial restlessness transforming into serene awe after Alarieka’s performance. Ms. Wyatt even overheard scattered whispers:
“Alarieka… how is she this good?”
“Alarieka seems… superior to Rose.”
“If you’d said that earlier, I’d have called you crazy. But now? I agree.”
Yet Ms. Wyatt understood: by choosing this controversial piece here, Alarieka’s goal wasn’t ranking or medals. It was Rose. Ms. Wyatt glanced back at Rose. Rose clearly grasped Alarieka’s intent, her expression steadier now though still strained. Ms. Wyatt calmly averted her gaze. She’d always favored Rose as a student and valued fairness. If either Rose or Alarieka plagiarized, she wouldn’t tolerate it.
Panic surged through Rose. Alarieka was reopening old wounds! The more flustered she felt, the clearer her mind became. Three realizations crystallized:
First, Alarieka had deliberately hidden her true skill until now. This was premeditated–obviously targeting her.
Second, Alarieka’s piano skill exceeded her own. Rose hated admitting it, resisted it fiercely, yet couldn’t deny this truth.
Third, Alarieka came prepared. Rose must devise a countermeasure immediately–she couldn’t let Alarieka succeed or bear the plagiarism accusation.
Rose’s brow twitched. One question tormented her: What bond existed between Alarieka and Lindsey Weaver? Why would Alarieka risk so much for Lindsey? Rose clenched her sweating palms.
Lindsey was dead. Precisely because Lindsey had no family, no friends–vanishing without ties–Rose had felt safe borrowing her work.