The room fell silent for a heartbeat before an eruption of sneering laughter broke the quiet a chorus of mocking jeers.

"Are you kidding? There's no way Emily Blair could've taken first place. Are you out of your mind?"

"Seriously, what are you thinking? Even if Emily Blair somehow beats us, there's no way she's better than Isabella Austin. It's obvious—just wait for the rankings. You'll see."

“Alright, enough. Emily Blair can hear you."

"So what if she does? You're afraid of her? After Larry Mitchell made such a fuss, going on and on about her, if the organizers aren't idiots, they should've kicked Emily Blair out ages ago. Then Larry wouldn't have needed to make a scene online, dragging the rest of us into it. Honestly, we didn't ask for this mess.”

"You're right. I almost forgot about Larry Mitchell. Hasn't the committee addressed his accusations yet?"

"Don't you check your phone? Larry Mitchell already apologized. He said it was all a misunderstanding and that Emily Blair made it to the semifinals on her own merit."

"What? When did he apologize? I didn't see that. Why would he?”

"You'd have to ask Emily Blair. Who else could make that happen?”

Emily Blair lowered her eyes, saying nothing.

Half an hour later, every contestant had performed.

Once again, it was Arianna George who would announce the results.

"The winner of first place in the Starlight Piano Competition semifinals is..."

All the contestants in their seats stared at Arianna George on stage, eyes fixed on the sheet of paper in her hands, as if they could see right through it to the rankings and scores.

Compared to the others, Emily Blair and Isabella Austin looked remarkably at ease. Emily just watched Arianna quietly.

She knew there was no chance she'd take first, but she also knew she wasn't going to be eliminated this round.

Isabella, on the other hand, sat upright in her chair, smiling confidently, her entire demeanor radiating the certainty of victory—as if this year's Starlight Piano Competition trophy was already hers.

Truth be told, Emily had a good idea who'd come out on top. She doubted she was wrong.

Arianna George glanced up and gave Isabella a warm, almost affectionate, smile. "Congratulations to Isabella Austin for taking first place in the semifinals."

No surprises there. Isabella's talent was undeniable, and she'd even held back a bit there was no way Emily or anyone else could've beaten her.

As Arianna's words echoed through the hall, applause erupted from every seat, going on and on.

Isabella rose gracefully, walked up to the stage, and accepted her certificate from Arianna George, her poise unshaken by the adulation.

Emily joined in the applause, generous as ever.

Isabella's eyes swept the crowd, her smile dazzling. When her gaze landed on Emily, something flickered—an unspoken message. Then she looked to Andrew Lane, sitting front and center, and her expression softened, full of warmth and lingering affection.

Even from a distance, Emily caught the words Isabella mouthed: "Andrew, aren't I amazing?"

Isabella's smile only grew, deepening with pride when Andrew Lane, usually unflappable, gave her a subtle nod and the faintest hint of a smile, pride shining in his eyes.

After Isabella left the stage, Arianna continued to announce the rest of the rankings. Emily didn't make the top five-she came in sixth.

It wasn't a high placement, but it was enough to irritate a few of the other contestants.

Emily heard the muttering, but she didn't care. Making it to the finals was all that mattered.

When the event ended, Emily was the first to head back to the hotel. But she didn't go to her own room-she went to Isabella's.

She stood by Isabella's door, leaning against the wall, toes tapping in a relaxed, almost nonchalant way.

Alex White, arriving back from the hospital, spotted her there and his eyes narrowed. He'd only stepped out to deal with a few things, and already Emily Blair was here, waiting outside Isabella's room, looking for trouble. Some people never learn.

Alex's footsteps were heavy as he approached. Emily looked up at him, her face calm and unreadable.

He stopped in front of her, voice low and sharp. “Emily Blair, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for someone. Isn't it obvious?"

He grabbed her wrist, hard enough to make her wince. "Get lost. Don't loiter here." Emily took a steadying breath, answering coolly, "That's not going to happen. You might not want to see me, but maybe Isabella does."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "What are you playing at now?"

He hadn't forgotten the time Emily had slapped him-twice. She was arrogant and difficult, and Isabella was too sweet, too naive. There was no way he'd let Emily start something.

Without hesitation, Alex tightened his grip, trying to drag Emily away before Isabella returned.

"I said leave. Now."

Emily yanked her hand, growing annoyed. "Alex White, you—"

"Alex? Emily?"

Isabella's voice cut through the tension. Emily looked up.

For once, Isabella's gentle face was tense, her eyes locked on Alex's hand gripping Emily's wrist. She looked like she was trying to bore a hole right through them.

Isabella forced a smile. "Alex, what's going on here?"

Alex flinched, letting go immediately, stumbling over his words. "Isabella, it's not what it looks like."