Page 132 of Redeeming the Villain

I don’t know how in the hell it’s taken me this long to realize how far from her father she really is, but I’ll never let myself forget it.

It’s going to be hard to talk about him. Just the thought of it has my throat burning.

But I want to. He deserves to be remembered by anyone willing to get to know him.

With her wrapped in my arms, I start to open up about my baby brother.

Today, the world feels heavier yet clearer than it’s ever been. Like I’ve finally been handed the missing puzzle pieces that I was searching for, for what felt like forever.

But now that I have them, it’s like everything has clicked into place.

Malik’s hatred for me all those years wasn’t for nothing. Was it directed at the wrong person? Sure. But at least there was a reason I can finally understand.

A part of me—the smallest sliver of my being—wants to think that my father’s innocent. The little girl he used to tuck into bed and tell made-up stories to … she wants to believe in him like she used to.

But I can’t hide from the feeling in my gut—that he’s not the man who once raised me.

He lost himself somewhere along the way, became consumed by the world around him and the chaos of his own creation. It’s sad because, deep down, I miss him, the version of him I used to know.

I never realized you could mourn someone who was still alive. But I think I started doing that a long time ago. It’s hard to move on completely when every now and then, you get glimpses of the person you once knew in their eyes, one that you desperately want to cling to.

He’s who I think about while I perform this piano piece,Liebestraum No. 3by Liszt. His face is the one haunting me with each note and chord that echo through the small room.

The music board joined our Individual Study in Music Performance class this morning, putting each of us on the spot to perform. They want to confirm that those invited to the showcase deserve their place. They aren’t just going to let anyone on the stage, and with Rupert’s scandal, I’m sure they want to make sure that we were chosen for our talents alone.

As the final note fades out, applause breaks through the silence around me, goose bumps chilling my arms.

Rising from my seat, I bow my head and look up at the three board members, awaiting their feedback.

The woman in the middle, Martha Schumann—a legend—speaks first. “It’s a shame we hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing you perform until now. You are truly exceptional.” She pauses, whispering to the other staff members. Then she continues, with a big smile on her face, “Please see me in my office after class today.”

“Okay,” I murmur, taking my seat at my assigned desk with Sunny.

The next performer takes their seat on the piano bench.

Nerves rattle my bones a bit as we wait for each minute to pass by. Everyone else gets immediate feedback and a yes or no to the showcase. Most of which are noes, but that’s not surprising, given this is an entry-level class.

When we’re finally dismissed, I follow the three board members down the hall toward Martha’s office, I presume. Once we pass through the ornate wooden door, they close it behind me and offer me to sit. I sit down in one of the velvet Victorian chairs, and Sunny sits between my legs, as if she’s also eagerly waiting for what they’re going to say.

The male professor, Sergei Horowitz, speaks first. “Alora, where have you played before this? Did you study anywhere else?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “No, sir. Only in the privacy of my home.”

Martha leans forward over her desk. “Firstly, we are going to need to drastically change your course load. There’s no need for you to be in most of your classes. You’re far beyond their levels.”

She digs something out of her desk and slides an envelope over to me. “Secondly, we would be honored to have you perform in our showcase.”

Relief washes over me at her offer, and excitement builds within me at the idea of switching into harder classes.

I couldn’t help but think that perhaps the only reason I had originally been invited was because of that creep’s desire for me. But this one is all because of me, and he can’t take that away.

I take the envelope and gently hold it in my lap. “Thank you so much.”

She nods sharply and smiles.

Sergei clears his throat. “We would also like to apologize on behalf of the department. If there’s anything we can do to make you more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

I nod, my mind racing. I’m wholeheartedly overwhelmed in the best of ways at everything that just transpired. “Thank you.”

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