"If the music therapy actually helps him, the risks don''t matter," Ste replied evenly.


    Mr. Burton leveled a heavy stare at her. "Even if it means you permanently destroy your hand for that boy? You truly don''t care?"


    "I don''t," Ste answered without a second of hesitation. "If it cures Joshua, I''ll dly never touch a bow again."


    Mr. Burton leaned forward, tapping his cane against the floor. "Listen to me, girl. Even if you shred every nerve in your hand, it''s only going to manage his symptoms. You aren''t going to cure him."


    "Managing the symptoms is enough," she insisted.


    The patriarch shook his head, letting out a long, heavy sigh. "You used to swear up and down you''d never sacrifice your passions for a man ever again. Look at you now. You''re just as hopelessly romantic as you were back then."


    "Joshua is different," Ste countered, her voiceced with unwavering conviction.


    "I''d sacrifice my hand, my career, everything I have right now, and I wouldn''t think twice.


    It''s not about being blinded by love. It''s about the fact that he''s worth it."


    She openly admitted she had been foolishly naive during her marriage to Haynes O''Brien,pletely losing herself.


    But her devotion to Joshua was entirely different.


    Every ounce of sess she currently enjoyed was because of him.


    Without Joshua, she wouldn''t be where she was today.


    He was willing toy down his own life to shield her; she was more than willing to return the favor.


    What they shared transcended standard romance; it was a bond forged in fire.


    Seeing the raw determination burning in her eyes, Mr. Burton dropped his cynical act.


    His expression hardened into something far more serious. "His idea is worth a shot, but don''t hold your breath.


    When his mind is rtively stable, the music might act as a decent sedative.


    But he is in the middle of a full-blown rpse now. A few songs aren''t going to pull him out of the abyss.


    Think about it, Ste—the Gardners have enough money to buy God. They''ve tried every conceivable treatment known to modern science.


    If your little violin solos possessed some miraculous healing property, don''t you think


    the boy would have burned down the earth to drag you back years ago?"


    The brutal logic in the old man''s words sparked a memory. Ste recalled a confession Joshua had made long ago:


    "Your music gave me a sense of peace back then. For a brief moment, it felt like I was staring at a light at the end of the tunnel.


    But the darkness around me was suffocating, and the light was just too damn weak to cut through it."


    Catching the sudden drop in her demeanor, Mr. Burton cleared his throat, softening his tone. "That being said, the boy isn''t entirely. wrong With these nasty


    psychological demons, el


    a mental


    anchor does a hell of a lot more than a pill bottle.


    Give it a try.


    Just remember, ying for five hours isn''t going to magically fix him five times faster than a thirty-minute session."


    His sharp, calcting eyes locked onto hers, seeing straight through her desperate hopes. "This is an experiment Ste not a guaranteed prescription.


    If you permanently cripple yourself trying to save him, the horrific guilt and spiraling despair he''ll feel will obliterate anyfort your music provided.  t


    Do you understand?"


    Ste absorbed the harsh truth, slowly nodding her head in understanding.


    "I''m not trying to shatter your confidence," Mr. Burton added gently. "I just need you braced for reality.


    You have the power to be his remedy, but you also have the power to be his poison.


    It alles down to how his fractured mind reacts to you now.


    If he stabilizes, you''re the cure.


    If he continues to unravel, you''ll be the very thing that kills him."


    The weight of Mr. Burton''s words pressed down on Ste as she left the main house


    and made her way toward Old Mr. Wyatt''s private quarters.


    Laurel Quinn had mentioned that Joshua''s mental state was actually at its absolute peak during the time they first met on the ind.


    Back then, she might have genuinely been his remedy.


    But now...


    He was rapidly deteriorating, carving up his own skin in the dead of night.


    How was she supposed to pull him back from the ledge?


    Completely lost in a maze of anxious thoughts, she wasn''t paying attention to where


    she was going—until she mmed right into a solid chest.