"Back then, she told me she was preparing for her college entrance exams. She wanted to get into a great school-she was aiming for St. Andrew's. Her grades were excellent, and I was sure she'd make it. I kept waiting to hear her good news."

Isabella Austin's smile faded, growing distant. "We hadn't spoken in ages. I assumed she was just focused on her studies and didn't have time to go online.”

"It wasn't until much later that I found out—she'd taken the exams, but things didn't go well. She only got into a rather ordinary school."

Emily Blair's gaze turned cold and sharp.

Everything Isabella said was true.

Every word came from a careful investigation into Vivian Martin's past.

As Isabella smiled, tears welled up again at the corners of her eyes. "She and I made a promise—to become accomplished, successful pianists. That's why I went overseas to study. I had no idea things were so hard for her. I didn't know she was struggling with depression."

"If I'd known. If I'd known she was here, in this city, I would've gone to help her."

“If I'd helped her, maybe—maybe she wouldn't have taken her own life.”

The words "taken her own life" sent a shock through the room. Whispers erupted, a wave of uneasy murmurs.

Isabella gazed longingly at the video of Vivian Martin playing on the screen.

"Emily, I know you have a lot of questions. I'll answer them all."

She took the microphone in both hands, her voice gentle but edged with worry. "The truth is, I'm not Vivian Martin."

The audience shifted restlessly. Someone shouted, angry, "You lied to us!"

Isabella lowered her eyes, her smile barely there. "I know. I'm sorry. I deceived you."

"I'm truly sorry," she said, bowing deeply to the audience, holding the posture for a long moment.

When she straightened up, she drew a shaky breath, looking as fragile and lost as a wildflower in a storm.

"It's true-'Love' was plagiarized from 'Desire.' I owe you another heartfelt apology for that."

She bowed again.

But the audience wasn't moved. They stared at her in silent, simmering anger- even those fans who, moments before, had been ready to defend her, now looked disappointed and betrayed.

Still, Isabella didn't panic. She continued, "Vivian Martin took her own life because of depression. By the time I found out, she'd already been gone for a month."

One tear slipped silently down her cheek.

"I lost a friend who will never come back. I knew her dreams, her ambitions, and I understood her burdens. I couldn't bear to see her final composition buried with her."

"You can all see it—'Desire' is brilliant. But it's just so hard for a great piece to get recognized, here or abroad. I resorted to something shameful, hoping to draw attention to it."

Isabella's smile trembled, eyes shining with tears. “I plagiarized on purpose. I wrote 'Love' only to make people notice 'Desire.' And, as you can see, it worked. Now, Vivian Martin and her work are finally in the public eye."

By this point, Emily Blair understood everything.

Isabella had investigated Vivian Martin.

It wasn't a question; it was a certainty, an undeniable fact.

Isabella had absolutely looked into Vivian Martin's life.

And Emily was completely sure—Vivian Martin never knew Isabella Austin, and they'd never been friends, not even online.