Emily Blair kept her gaze fixed on her.

Emma George waved her off, striding back to her bedroom. "Alright, alright, enough questions! I'm taking a shower and heading to bed."

Emily could only shake her head in resignation, grabbing the stack of papers before heading to her own room.

Saturday morning, Emily was up early, holed up in her study as she tackled work emails and documents.

A knock sounded at the door. Emma poked her head in. “I'm going shopping with my friends. You'll have to sort out lunch on your own."

Emily glanced up from her laptop. "Again?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "What do you mean, again? Are you trying to say your old mother isn't allowed to enjoy her retirement a little?”

Emily stared at her for a few seconds.

With an exaggerated huff, Emma flung the study door open wider and gestured for Emily to look.

Emily followed her gaze.

The front door was open. Two women about Emma's age were standing outside, cheerfully waving in her direction.

Emma said, "My friends. See? Satisfied now?"

Emily nodded toward them. “As if I could stop you from going."

Emma waved goodbye. "See you later."

Emily called after her, “Leave the door open, I need some fresh air.”

"Sure thing."

Emma grabbed her purse and left with her friends, the door closing behind them.

As soon as Emily heard the click of the door, her hands left the keyboard. She shut her laptop and got to her feet.

She still couldn't shake the suspicion: what was Emma really up to?

Emily waited a couple of minutes just to be sure Emma and her friends had taken the elevator, then slipped out herself.

While waiting for the elevator, she called her driver. "They've left. Stay close and keep me updated."

"Yes, Ms. Blair."

Downstairs, Emily got into her car and drove out of the neighborhood.

Her driver sent her a text with Emma's current location.

Emily glanced at it, then followed in that direction.

Midway there, her driver called. "Ms. George stopped on Cedar Avenue. The other two got out, but she's still in the car."

Definitely suspicious.

Emily replied, “Keep following her.”

A little while later, the driver updated her again. "She's stopped at the shopping

district near Eastwood Estates."

Emily arrived soon after.

Her driver approached as she got out. "Ms. George is inside the tea shop."

Emily nodded. "She didn't spot you, did she?"

"Don't think so."

"Alright. Thanks, you can head back."

On this stretch of shops, there was only one tea place. Emily chose the restaurant next door, picking a seat by the big picture window, perfect for keeping an eye on the tea shop's entrance.

She waited about ten minutes, but Emma never emerged.

Instead, something else caught her attention inside the restaurant.

A grand piano sat in the center of the room. Suddenly, music filled the air-gentle and flowing.

Emily looked over.

A slender woman in a camel-colored trench coat sat at the piano with her back to Emily. From her vantage, Emily could only see the woman's delicate, pale hands dancing across the keys-the melody pouring from her fingertips.

After a quick glance, Emily's attention drifted back to the tea shop's door.

The piece ended, drawing a smattering of applause from the diners.

Propping her chin on her hand, Emily stared out the window, boredom creeping in.

She clapped along, more out of politeness than genuine appreciation.

"Juliana, that was beautiful."

The words, spoken above the restaurant's chatter, reached Emily's ears with surprising clarity.

A man's voice. One she knew all too well.

Emily turned, searching for the source.