Page 131 of Symphony for Lies

A slight smirk ghosted over his lips. “I’m a fast learner.”

For a moment, there was silence, and it wasn’t unbearable. It was exactly what I needed.

The following days passed in a haze.

Every moment blurred together, slipping through my fingers like sand. I spent every single day with my grandmother, holding her hand, telling her stories about the world outside the sterile walls of the hospital as if my words alone could keep reality at bay.

But nothing could stop the inevitable.

Susan’s body had finally been released after the autopsy, and her funeral was arranged. A grave near my grandfather’s was chosen for her, a quiet resting place beneath a sprawling oak tree.

When the day of the funeral arrived, and I stood before the freshly turned soil, the weight of it crashed over me. She was really gone.

Susan had been brutally taken away.

It didn’t feel real. I didn’t want to believe it.

But the earth had been shoveled, the flowers were lain with careful hands, and the cold emptiness in my chest refused to fade.

I took an extended leave from work, and Linda understood without needing a detailed explanation.

My friends held me up, refusing to let me or my grandmother be alone.

We had beautiful moments together.

Days filled with laughter, shared memories, and quiet comfort. But time was merciless.

Two months after Susan’s funeral, I returned to work, part-time only. Every moment with my grandmother felt more precious than anything else.

Since I’d returned to the clinic, Zane had started showing up almost daily with Ivy. Sometimes, for a check-up, claw trimming, or shots. Or he just came in to ask questions. Everyone knew he wasn’t there for the cat, but no one said anything.

Another month passed.

Winter faded, and spring breathed life back into the city. With it, normalcy returned.

No new murders. No more poisoning cases. The killer had vanished as if swallowed by the air itself. Spencer told me the murderer left a final message, but because of my situation, he didn’t want to tell me details.

Bella Carter checked in a few times, keeping me updated on new leads. Her source needed more time.

But to me, it was all just background noise.

My focus was only on my grandma.

On Sunday in spring, the last traces of winter had disappeared, and golden sunlight streamed through the living room window in warm patches.

Layla, my grandmother, and I sat curled up on the couch, watching a comedy movie.

It was a beautiful day.

No. We’d had many beautiful days. We had done so much together, filling the months with memories so warm and full of love that, for a brief moment, it almost felt like nothing bad could touch us.

But then, as the movie ended, my grandmother turned off the TV and looked at me with a soft, knowing smile.“Amelia, I have something for you.”

Slowly, she stood up and disappeared into her room. A moment later, she returned, carrying a cardboard box.“This is important. Open it when the time is right.”

Layla squeezed my hand. “Must be a surprise,” she whispered with a weak smile.

“When I found out about my condition, I sold my tailor shop to an old friend,” Grandma admitted quietly.

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