Joshua arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes.


    "Rachel, didn''t I offer before? I could have taken care of her for you, but you refused."


    Rachel''s expression stiffened.


    He was right-he had made the offer, and she had turned it down. All she''d ever wanted was to win Haynes for herself. She wasn''t some heartless monster-why would she ever want blood on her hands?


    But things were different now.


    With Mr. Burton backing Ste, she had be untouchable. Even Joshua would struggle to go up against the Burtons ande out on top.


    Maybe it was time to stop hesitating. Maybe Ste just needed to disappear, once and for all.


    Rachel parted her lips, instinctively searching for some excuse. But when it came time to speak, not a single word made it out.


    Things really had changed. Her heart was growing colder by the day.


    Joshua watched her pale, troubled face and didn''t bother waiting for an answer. Whether she was kind or cruel-it made no difference to him.


    He spoke up, his tone calm. "I can handle this for you. But before I do, there''s something I want to ask."


    Rachel hesitated. "What is it?"


    Joshua fixed her with a look. His eyes, usually so clear, were now as dark and imprable as ink-cold, fathomless, impossible to read.


    "Why is it, after all these years, you''ve never yed anything quite like that piece from that night?"


    Rachel froze, realization dawning almost immediately-Joshua must have heard Ste''s performance of "Moonlight" earlier. It had reminded him.


    Every musician has their own style. She wasn''t the violinist from that night, so of course she could never capture what Joshua was searching for.


    She had tried, in her own way, to reach for the feeling he wanted. But emotion in music was such an elusive thing. She''d never really understood what it was Joshua heard that night-what he was truly looking for.


    Rachel tried to exin herself. "That night, I was in a really good headspace, I—”


    Joshua cut her off. "But today I heard Ste y, and she came very close to that feeling."


    Rachel faltered, uncertain. "Are you talking about... her original style?"


    "Original style?"


    Rachel rified, "Ste''s performance today was very close to the original interpretation of the piece."


    She shot Joshua a sidelong nce, then continued, "Beginners always try to mimic the original style. But professionals-real violinists-they develop their own sound.


    Back then, ''Moonlight'' had just be popr. I practiced it every day in the garden. At first, I copied the original as closely as I could. But after a while, once I got the hang of it, I started blending in my own way of ying."


    She wasn''t lying she really had developed her own style. Imitation was something only novices did. No matter how perfect your imitation, it would always belong to someone else.


    Thinking of this, Rachel felt a strange sense of relief.


    She managed a small smile. “Joshua, you''ve hired so many professional violinists


    to y ''Moonlight'' for you, but you must have noticed how rare it is to find someone who gives you what you want.


    It''s not that they aren''t skilled-it''s just that every professional has their own style.


    You think Stees close


    because she''s still imitating the


    original. Remember at that


    preschoolpetition? She yed ''Moonlight'' there, too. Honestly suspect those few pieces might be all she knows."