Page 11 of Symphony for Lies (Tangled Truths #2)

“I swear nothing is going on. Not with any of them! Officer Wilson is only involved because of the case I told you about. Tristan and I have known each other since we were kids; you guys know him, too. And Zane? He’s just the brother of the kid I tutor. That’s all.”

For the tenth time, I explained myself.

Stacy had parked in front of my house, and now three pairs of eyes were burning into me like I was hiding some scandalous affair. Which I absolutely was not.

“Yeah, well… Tristan has liked you for ages, but he never made a move. We actually took him off the checklist of potential partners. But I guess we need to add him back on.” Stacy opened her notes app right in front of me and added Tristan’s name to her ridiculous ranking list.

“What?” I grabbed her phone, scanning through the names.

Tristan was at the bottom.

And the top spot? Aiden. A teacher at the school where I tutored.

“Why the hell is Aiden number one?”

“So, the list itself doesn’t shock you, but the ranking does?” Tiana remarked, earning a sharp glare from me.

“I keep telling you guys I’m not interested, but you don’t seem to care. That’s why I’m not surprised anymore. But Aiden being first? That’s shocking. I barely even talk to him.”

“Listen, every guy who has interacted with you had potential. And at that time, Aiden seemed like a good catch. Stable job, good salary, not too old or young… But we might have to update the rankings now. Spencer, Zane, and Tristan all have better credit scores.” Stacy clapped her hands like she was making an official decision, and Layla nodded enthusiastically.

Fine. Let them do whatever they want.

“Thanks,” I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

“You’re welcome!” they all chirped in unison.

Annoying as they were, I couldn’t stay mad at them.

As I lay down in bed later that night, my thoughts drifted to Zane. Why did he intervene?

I wanted to push him out of my head, but something told me that getting involved with him would be trouble.

I woke up with a bad feeling in my gut. On my way to work, I hoped there wouldn’t be any new cases. But as soon as my shift started, a Doberman was rushed into the clinic foaming at the mouth. His paw was bleeding, glass shards embedded deep in his metacarpal pad.

A clue. Maybe it could finally lead us to the person responsible.

We did everything we could to stabilize him.

I assisted by removing the glass, stitching the wound up, and sending the samples to the lab.

Then, we called the police.

After what felt like hours, the dog was finally asleep, recovering from the ordeal.

I stroked his black fur gently, whispering, “You were so brave.”

His breathing was calm. His wounds were treated.

Beside me, the owner sat crying.“I can’t believe this. I was only walking him for a few minutes, and it all happened so fast,” she sobbed.

“That must have been terrifying.”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve and looked at me. “We were in the park. I let him off the leash for a second to let him run. T-then… he just started screaming and limping toward me.”

She had already told me the same thing multiple times. But I kept listening. No interruptions.

“I didn’t even look around. I just panicked and carried him straight here.”

I nodded, going to the counter to get her a glass of water.

“Someone must have put something there,” she muttered.

When I handed her the cup, she gulped it down desperately, and I refilled it.

She looked utterly wrecked; clothes stained with blood and dirt, red and puffy brown eyes, a pale face, and red hair that had tangled into a mess.

When her gaze fell back on her dog, her entire body trembled.

“I shouldn’t have taken him to the park.”

Her guilt was palpable. And it broke my heart.

“This isn’t your fault. It’s just not safe right now. He’s going to be okay. And soon, the police will catch whoever did this.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“When he wakes up, the vet will check on him again. If everything looks good, you can take him home.”

She nodded weakly, clutching the glass in her hands, but seemed calm enough.

I stepped out of the room.Leaning against the door, I exhaled slowly, trying to pull myself together.

The entire shift was chaos.Another emergency case came in.

Linda was furious. She couldn’t wrap her head around how something so horrifying kept happening.

Determined to raise awareness, she pushed to get the case on national radio and news.

We updated our clinic website, ensuring the warning was the first thing people saw.

Before my shift ended, I quickly checked in with Jeff to ask if he had installed the cameras.

With a wink, he assured me that everything was set.

After work, I stopped by a flower shop for Tristan.

I picked up white, red, and orange chrysanthemums, which the florist arranged into a beautiful, refined bouquet.

I hoped Tristan would like them. They were a symbol of respect and admiration.

My grandmother was waiting for me at home.

She immediately handed me some black fabric and eagerly ushered me upstairs after I slipped off my shoes. “Go get changed.”

Laughing, I went upstairs and slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower. The hot water washed away the day’s stress, relaxing my tense muscles.

After drying off, I picked up my grandmother’s creation. It was an elegant V-neckline dress with thin straps, and the garment hugged my curves just right.

Since it was cold, I layered it with black tights and a blazer for a classy yet practical look.

I styled my short hair into an elegant updo, put on some matching makeup, and paired the ensemble with a small purse.

When Grandma was done getting ready, I heard her humming as she descended the staircase.On the last step, she clapped her hands with a delighted smile.

She looked stunning.She wore a black two-piece ensemble, and a hint of light makeup softened her already graceful features.Her short hair was neatly styled, and her pearl necklace and earrings added timeless elegance to the sophisticated outfit.

I stepped forward and extended my hand. “May I have the honor of escorting you tonight, young lady?” I asked playfully.

“But of course,” she laughed, looping her arm through mine.

Just before we stepped out, she paused, studying me warmly. “You look beautiful, Amelia.”

She leaned in and kissed my cheek, and I thanked her with a tight hug.

We took a taxi to the venue, where a large crowd had already gathered outside. Everyone was dressed stylishly in black.

The entry process was smooth, and to my surprise, our seats were in the front row, next to the right side of the stage.I took the outermost spot, and my grandma settled beside me.

The venue filled quickly, with not a single seat left empty. The hall buzzed with murmured conversations, a symphony of voices overlapping, rising, and falling like waves.And the air was thick with the intermingling scents of expensive perfumes.

A little overwhelming but tolerable, for a few hours at least.

My gaze drifted toward the stage, where a grand black piano dominated the space, commanding attention.

Other instruments waited to the side. A perfect harmony of contrasts.

As I was taking it all in, my grandmother lightly tapped my shoulder and discreetly gestured to her left.

Right beside her, an older couple sat. And just one seat away from them was Mr. and Mrs. Cole.

I immediately sank lower into my chair, trying to make myself smaller and avoid eye contact at all costs.

My grandmother eyed me suspiciously. “I knew something happened!” She clicked her tongue. “You’re telling me everything later!”

“There’s really nothing to tell,” I tried to dodge, but she didn’t buy it.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my seat.

I just wanted to enjoy the concert.

The lights in the hall dimmed, leaving only the stage illuminated. A man with a sharp black suit stepped onto the stage, microphone in hand.

He began his speech, and a photo of Jacob Wales appeared on the large screen behind him.

A chill ran down my spine.

I recognized the boy as the body I had found in the pavilion. Even though I never knew him, my eyes burned with unshed tears.

They played a short video of him at the piano. His fingers glided across the keys with effortless grace. A boy full of potential who was brutally murdered.

The announcer stated that all the proceeds from the night’s event would help Jacobs’ family cover the funeral expenses.And amidst a flurry of applause, the musicians took the stage.

Tristan, Ella, Ian, Allan, and finally Zane.

It was the first time I had ever seen them all together.

The men wore perfectly tailored black suits, while Ella appeared in a long, flowing black gown.Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, shimmering under the lights. She looked ethereal. Untouchable.

But my eyes focused on Zane. He was the complete opposite. Dark and rough. A commanding presence.

The black violin in his hands suited him. He stood tall, his gaze unreadable, as if the world around him didn’t matter.

I swallowed hard.

My palms felt cold.

The energy on stage was tangible, and then the music began.

Ella started first. Her flute sounded like a melancholic echo, soft and soothing. A tone from another world.

Then, deep cello tones followed. It was like a sharp blade cutting through the soul.

A shiver ran down my spine as I instinctively held my breath.

When Tristan joined in, I felt a wave of warmth. His melody sounded like hope, like a light in the darkness. I was so fixated on Tristan that I barely noticed when Zane didn’t follow.

He was searching for something. Or someone.

He let his bow glide over the strings softly, almost cautiously echoing the piano’s sound. But his eyes weren’t on his instrument.

He was looking into the audience.

My stomach tightened as his eyes found mine. He lifted his head just slightly, his expression unreadable.

There was movement in my peripheral, and I turned my head slightly without taking my eyes off the stage.

Ella.

Her lips rested on the flute, but her eyes had been watching Zane. As if she were following his gaze, they suddenly locked onto me.

It lasted only a fraction of a second that was so fast I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it. A moment swallowed by the flowing melody of the piece.

Yet, a strange feeling lingered.

Zane’s violin cut through the air like a dagger. His playing was powerful, raw, and so intense it was almost unbearable. This wasn’t music meant to soothe. It was music to consume you, own you, burn you alive. And yet, it was perfect.

The entire hall fell silent.

It was as if Jacob Wales had been brought back to life one last time.

As the final echoes faded, the entire audience rose to their feet with thunderous applause.

Zane lowered his violin, and his gaze dropped, but his jaw was clenched tight.

I turned to look at my grandmother, who had tears in her eyes. Without a second thought, I rummaged through my bag for tissues and handed her one.

But instead of taking it, she pulled me into her arms and wept. She hadn’t done that in a long time. Not since my grandfather’s death.

I felt overwhelmed; seeing her so emotional broke my heart. While everyone else remained standing, I sat back down with her and held her tightly.

“You’re such a wonderful girl,” she murmured. “I’m so proud of you, and I always will be. Never forget that.”

My brows furrowed.

Why did it sound like she was saying goodbye?

“Of course, I won’t forget,” I reassured, kissing her temple.

She took the tissue from my hand with a small smile and wiped her tears away.

I kept my fingers wrapped around hers, still feeling the lingering trembles of emotion.

When I looked back at the stage,all the musicians, except Zane, had left.

There was a moment of hesitation before he lifted his violin once more.But this time, it wasn’t for Jason.

His fingers moved over the strings; the first notes were soft, almost vulnerable. Gradually, they darkened. They came out fast and wild.

The melody swelled, raged, and exploded.

Zane’s eyes were closed, but his expression was tense as if he were fighting something no one else could see.As if he were screaming with his music.

It was breathtaking. But also terrifying.

And as the last note faded, it felt as though the air had been sucked from the room.

Zane lowered his violin, but he didn’t bow.

He simply turned around and left the stage.As if none of it had mattered.

As if he had never really been here at all.

The remaining musicians played their pieces one by one. It felt like being taken on a journey, each displaying their own unique style and soul. It was simply enchanting.

Tristan was the last to perform.

The room seemed to shrink as he walked to the piano, his presence filling the space effortlessly.

He hesitated momentarily, scanning the audience until our eyes met.

His crystal-blue eyes shimmered under the lights, and he smiled softly with a nod. I smiled back, lifting my hand in a small wave.

His grin widened before his expression turned serious as he started playing.

It was a soft, melodic sound that floated through the air like a whisper in the wind.

The room seemed frozen.

Each note carried something deep that touched the heart and awakened memories, as if time had stopped for a moment.

With a complex chord, he shifted the melody.

The deep and bright tones blended together, and I recognized them.

The metallic notes of wind chimes. The same tune I had heard the day I found the body. Only, they were woven into a melody.

A cold shiver crawled down my spine as my pulse began to race. I could no longer hear anything around me. Only the music. Only the memories it brought back.

The wind chimes.

The darkness.

The body.

The pain.