To her surprise, she placed second.

Arianna George messaged her: "Honestly, I didn't expect it either. The other judges and I all scored normally-there was no favoritism. After dropping the highest and lowest scores, you were just 0.3 points behind Isabella Austin."

Arianna added, "If it hadn't been for what happened, you probably would've taken first place."

For Emily Blair, this result already felt like a stroke of luck.

She replied, "Thank you, truly. I appreciate you all."

A while later, Arianna unexpectedly called her on video.

Emily accepted, confused. "Is something wrong, Professor?"

There was some background noise on Arianna's end, making her voice a bit quiet, but Emily could still make out the words.

The camera jerked and shifted, at first showing the opposite wall, then rising to focus on the stage.

"You should see what Isabella Austin is saying.”

The video slowly sharpened, and Emily saw Isabella Austin standing center stage, wearing a flowing white dress that radiated gentle elegance. Her makeup was understated, her expression soft, even a little wounded—completely non- confrontational, with just a hint of vulnerability.

In one hand, Isabella held the golden trophy and certificate that marked her as the Starlight Piano Competition champion; in the other, a microphone.

Her voice was gentle and shaky, stirring an unbidden sympathy in everyone listening.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I want to apologize for what happened yesterday." Isabella bent deeply at the waist. "I'm sorry for letting the audience—and my fans—down.”

She straightened slowly, then continued, her words measured and sincere. "Regarding Vivian Martin, Desire, and Love, I think I owe everyone an explanation."

"I admit, I boosted Vivian Martin and Desire's visibility, hoping to draw attention to Vivian Martin, and ended up copying Desire to create Love. The result was that everyone got to know Vivian Martin, but the truth is, what I did was plagiarism. I won't try to excuse myself."

"For my actions, I want to offer a sincere apology to everyone, and to the late Vivian Martin as well."

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Isabella's mouth-her eyes shining with both satisfaction and regret.

"I've decided to hand the right to judge me over to the audience and my fans. Let you all decide what my punishment should be. I'll accept whatever you decide, without complaint."

Emily Blair didn't believe Isabella would stop at such gentle words.

And she was right. Isabella glanced down at the golden trophy in her hands-a statuette of a graceful woman lifting a torch to the sky. Thanks to Andrew Lane's sponsorship, the trophy was rumored to be quite valuable; while not solid gold, the surface was, and the core was solid silver.

The runner-up's trophy, by contrast, was pure silver, and the third-place trophy was bronze.

Isabella extended the trophy outward, her voice soft but clear. "I want to thank the Starlight Piano Competition's organizers and the judges for awarding me this trophy, but I don't deserve it. I can't accept this honor. So, I've decided to withdraw from the competition and return the trophy to another contestant."

"In other words, to Emily Blair."

The audience fell utterly silent.

Isabella lifted a hand and brushed away the tears at the corners of her eyes, then spoke again, quietly but firmly: "She is the true champion of this competition. This is my way of making amends-my apology to her."