As he set her on the bench, she curled her fingers around a lighter, hiding it from him, and flashed Linnea a sly grin.
Linnea lunged forward, grabbing her hand.
“This piano is my mother’s last hope of remembering. Please—”
She dropped to her knees, bowing desperately.
Agatha’s eyes welled with crocodile tears.
“Soren, she hates me. I didn’t mean to steal it… I only touched it and she—”
His gaze softened at the sight of his sister’s double. In the next breath, his boot slammed into Linnea’s chest.
“Killed my sister, now you won’t leave Agatha alone? Still acting innocent?”
His grip on her hand was crushing.
“You like to act? Take it out and burn it!”
Bodyguards swarmed in, hauling the piano away. Moments later, flames roared into the night sky.
Linnea screamed and bolted after them—straight into the fire.
The heat scorched her skin instantly. The stench of burning flesh filled her nose, but she didn’t let go.
She clung to the blazing piano, and through the flames, she saw her mother’s gentle smile.
Linnea, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.
I’ll give this piano to you as a dowry.
Then—blood on the stairs. Her mother’s body crumpled.
“Mom!” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry—”
Through the haze, she thought she saw Soren drop Agatha and run toward her.
“Linnea!”
Tears slid down her blistered cheeks.
Was this a dream? How could he possibly call her that now? Care about whether she lived or died?
No. He should be happy she was burning.
With that thought, she let go—and let the fire take her.
When she woke up, the pristine white ceiling of the hospital greeted her. She rolled her eyes numbly, her sore eyes no longer able to shed tears — perhaps they had dried up at that wedding five years ago.
While she was still dazed, Soren pushed the door open, holding a tube of burn ointment. Seeing Linnea awake, he stepped forward, tossed the ointment onto her, and said in a deep voice, “I was too impulsive yesterday, but you also scared Agatha, so let’s write it off. I’ve hired the best plastic surgeon for you. It won’t leave scars.”
He knew Linnea was obsessed with beauty; in the past, even a small cut on her face would have her crying for three days. To find her the best scar-removing ointment, Soren had scoured the city, using his connections to obtain special foreign medication. But now she was covered in burns, her left cheek bandaged, her expression blank.