Back in the living room, the sushi and desserts were still sitting on the table, untouched. But Penny and Timmy had vanished.
Amelia wandered down the hall toward the little study, stopping just outside the door. It hadn’t closed all the way, and soft music drifted out—a blend of piano and violin swirling together.
She paused to listen.
It was a Mozart sonata.
Quietly, Amelia leaned against the wall, letting the melody wash over her. Pride sparkled in her eyes, mixed with a warm, gentle affection. The piece wasn’t particularly hard, but for Timmy and Penny’s age, playing it so smoothly was no small feat.
She stayed there, just listening, until the music faded. Only then did she step closer to the door. Inside, Penny’s voice rang out.
“Timmy, I’m hungry. Is Dad done talking to that mean woman yet?”
The study faced the backyard, and since it doubled as a music room, the soundproofing was good enough that the kids hadn’t heard Clive leave.
Timmy was still fussing with his violin strings. When he heard Penny, his hands paused.
“Penny, you can’t keep calling her that,” he said, slipping right into his big brother role.
He knew Penny didn’t like her—but she was their mom. And honestly, Timmy hadn’t seen Amelia do anything truly bad. If anything, she seemed… a little sad sometimes.
Penny pouted, hopping off her chair.
“If I can’t call her the mean woman, then what? Am I supposed to call her Mom? She’s never acted like a mom to us!”
Just outside, Amelia’s hand shook as she held the plate of desserts. She closed her eyes, her daughter’s words stinging. Pain bloomed deep in her chest.
“Penny…” Timmy tried, but Penny was already revved up.


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