Page 4 of Symphony for Lies

I dropped into the chair beside my grandmother and quickly kissed her cheek.“Thank you.”

“Of course, my child. Now, eat up. But afterward, you’d better dry your hair, or you’ll catch acold.”

I giggled, expecting her to say that. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”

She rolled her green eyes. “What would your mother think of me if you got sick?”

“Mom would know it’s my own fault,” I joked.

“What am I going to do with you?” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not that cold yet, and besides, I never get sick easily.” I waved her concern away, digging into the delicious vegetable soup.

“You’re impossible.” After a brief pause, Grandma whispered, “May Sarah’s soul rest in peace.” She reached for a sandwich, taking a small bite.

Whenever my grandmother mentioned my mother, I never felt sad. She had only ever spoken of her in the best way possible, ensuring I knew Sarah had loved me more than anything. But I had no memories of her. My parents had died in a car accident when I was just a baby. I was the only one who survived.

“How was your day?” I asked, steering the conversation away.

Her face instantly brightened. “Oh, it was wonderful! So many familiar faces stopped by the shop today, and we had lovely chats.”

She dove into the latest neighborhood gossip, and I listened intently while finishing my food.

Interrupting her with a smirk, I teased, “Did you actually work today, or were you just gossiping?”

She gasped dramatically before playfully swatting my shoulder. “Of course, I worked!”

My grandmother owned a small tailor shop calledMagic Stitch, which my grandfather gave her as a gift on their silver anniversary. He had secretly saved up for years to buy her the shop and rented all the equipment she needed because he knew how much she loved sewing.

He had loved her deeply, always showing it through grand gestures. For their ruby anniversary two years ago, he had surprised her with tickets for a cruise.

But they never got to go. He passed away peacefully in his sleep just days before the trip.

She never took that cruise. Instead, she framed the ticket and placed it in the living room, keeping it as a memory of their life together.

“Earth to Amelia! Are you even listening to me?” She waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was just telling you about Mrs. Thompson,” she huffed. “You know, the housekeeper for the Cole family? She said Zane is back.”

For a second, I completely lost track of what she meant.“Who?”

Grandma squinted at me. “Zane Cole? The man you admire! The handsome violinist?”

I rolled my eyes. “I only admire his playing. Not him.”

“Sure, sure.” She waved me off. “Anyway, he’s back. He worked abroad for his father for a while, but now he’s taking over the Aurora Gallery. You’ve been tutoring at the Coles’ house these past few days. Haven’t you heard any news?”

Indeed, I was tutoring their twelve-year-old son, Simon. He struggled a lot with math and needed help with history, geography, and—ironically—even music. Our sessions were intense, and I focused entirely on him whenever I was there. So, I had no time for gossip.

Originally, I had started tutoring a coworker’s daughter. Her grades improved drastically, and word quickly spread about my lessons’ effectiveness. More and more parents began reaching out. Before I knew it, I was tutoring multiple kids weekly in a rented classroom at the local school.

A few months back, Mr. Cole approached me personally, asking if I could tutor Simon twice a week at their home. I gladly took the opportunity—the Coles paid well.

I could’ve taken a different path. I had always been at the top of my class and probably could’ve gotten a scholarship. But I wanted to startearning money quickly and stay close to my grandmother. That’s why I entered a veterinary assistant program after high school, and the tutoring had become a welcomed additional income.

“No, I didn’t hear anything,” I admitted.

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