Chapter. 1
“Hey, Ellie. Wait up!”
Ellie Carter hesitated, her footsteps faltering for a brief moment as the familiar voice cut through the air. She could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her: the endless hours of practice, the relentless ticking clock, and the knot in her stomach as she anticipated her parents’ upcoming lecture at dinner. She considered ignoring the call, walking on and pretending she hadn’t heard. But deep down, she knew she couldn’t. Not when Paul White had that hopeful tone in his voice, always eager for her attention.
With a sigh that seemed to echo her fatigue, Ellie stopped and turned, watching as Paul ran down the steps of the Peabody-Walker School of Music. He was tall and lean, his dark hair tousled from the wind, a smile already spreading across his face as he caught up to her.
“What is it now?” Ellie asked, trying to keep the annoyance from creeping into her voice.
She’d just finished a marathon rehearsal session with Paul—another run-through of her solo for the Madison-Parkway Symphony audition—and she was sure she didn’t have the energy for any more music talk. The audition was just days away, and every moment she spent practicing, refining, analyzing her every note, felt like it drained more and more of her soul. Yet, she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t afford to stop. This was the culmination of everything she had worked toward for years, a step closer to a dream that had been molded by others—namely, her parents.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking about my audition piece,” Paul said, matching her pace easily. “There are a couple of passages I’m unsure about. Could you listen to them? Just a quick run-through, I promise.” His voice was casual, but the edge of uncertainty that lingered in his tone was unmistakable.
Ellie exhaled sharply through her nose. “Paul, I’d love to, but I’m already late for dinner with my parents. And I haven’t even started studying for my final tomorrow. You know how it is.” Her voice trailed off, frustration creeping into her words. “I’ve barely got enough time to keep my life together. And trust me, you don’t want me trying to give you advice on your piece right now. I’m struggling to get my own act together.”
Paul didn’t respond immediately, but his expression softened. He knew the pressure she was under—had always known, really. They’d dated briefly in high school, a short-lived thing that fizzled out in the way only first relationships could. They had remained friends, though. In fact, Paul was one of the few people who seemed to understand how much Ellie loved music but hated everything surrounding it: the suffocating expectations, the constant comparisons, the feeling of always being judged.
“I get it, Ellie. Just thought I’d ask. I don’t want to add to your stress.” He gave a light chuckle, though it sounded a little forced. “But hey, I’ll be here all week, right? We can always do this after the auditions are over.”
“Right,” Ellie said flatly, not really listening. She was already mentally mapping out the hours she had left in her day, trying to find a way to make them stretch. Dinner with her parents would be an ordeal—an endless round of questions, criticisms, and passive-aggressive remarks disguised as concern. Then, back to the grind: more practice, more perfection.
As she shifted her violin case, the familiar weight felt oddly burdensome, and for a split second, she almost wished something would happen—anything—that would take it out of her hands. Maybe if her violin were stolen, or even broken... she quickly shook the thought away. She wasn’t that reckless, or that desperate. She just wanted a break.
The world suddenly spun in an unexpected direction. Without warning, something—or rather, someone—collided with her. One moment she was walking, the next she was on the ground, her knees scraping against the rough sidewalk, the wind knocked from her lungs.
Ellie gasped, trying to push herself up, but before she could even get her bearings, she felt the sharp tug of her purse being yanked from her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up, catching sight of a man running off through the crowd, her purse swinging behind him like a flag in the wind.
