Page 25 of Symphony for Lies

Robert, meanwhile, had just finished checking out a patient. His platinum blond hair was slicked back, but his face looked drained. His eyes had deep, dark circles under them. Even with large glasses covering most of his face, they were very noticeable.

“Didn’t sleep at all last night,” he groaned.“Amelia, you look like you need three cups of coffee. I’m going to the bakery. Would you like me to bring you something?”

The words of a saint.

“Yes, please.”

At my instant answer, Robert grinned, hopping to his feet.“Good. Hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

I sighed, “That means you’ll be gone for half an hour.”

He was already heading for the door.“You know me!”

Rita chuckled, tucking a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. “That we do.”

“As long as he gets my coffee, I won’t complain.”

She turned the monitor toward me with a soft laugh. “Here’s the number.”

I started dialing, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Rita fiddling with the ends of her hair, an old nervous habit. Then there was the knuckle cracking.

Before I could ask if she was okay, the call connected. But it wasn’t Mr. Franklyn who picked up. It was his son. His reaction was instant, full of anger, frustration, and a sharp threat to sue.

I tried to explain that the police were handling it, but he hung up before I could even finish.

I stared at the phone. “Shit…”

Rita patted my shoulder with a gentle, reassuring smile.“Come on, Amelia. That kind of call is always challenging. Don’t take it personally.”

I exhaled slowly and nodded.

I needed to focus.

As my shift came to an end, that heavy weight from earlier still clung to my chest. I was drained. Exhausted. I just wanted to go home.

The familiar scent of my grandmother’s cooking greeted me when I walked through the door.

“Come, my love. You need to eat.” Her soft voice drifted through the house, pulling me from my thoughts.

I forced a small smile. But before I joined her, I took a long, hot shower, letting the knots in my muscles loosen.

When I trotted downstairs, my hair wrapped in a towel, the smell of mint tea lingered in the air.

Grandma was seated at the table, her frail hands wrapped around a steaming cup.

I bent down and kissed her soft cheek before sitting down to eat my dinner of salmon and salad.

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I took the first bite. While I ate, she chatted about her day at work, and her voice was soothing against the storm in my mind.

But when I finished my meal, her fingers curled around mine. Her grip was warm. Comforting. And then she said,“My love… Mrs. Wales came to my shop today. She… She’s the mother of the boy who died.”

A sharp sting shot through my chest.

“I never expected to know someone affected by this… but the world… is small.” Grandma let out a long sigh and took another sip of tea. “She invited us to the funeral. The town is organizing a donation drive for the family.”

“When is the funeral?”

“Next Friday.” The words were gentle, but their weight pressed down on me.“The body will be released this week. She told me, through tears, that her son was only sixteen. He was just starting to make a name for himself in classical music. A talented young pianist…”