***
Kayla's POV
***
"Thank you so much, Doctor," I said as we stepped out of Mom's hospital room together.
She gave me a small smile and tapped my shoulder. "Take care of yourself too, Kayla."
Her words hit harder than I expected. I managed a nod before walking away, my chest tightening with every step.
Outside, I sat under the big tree near the hospital gate — the same spot I always go to when it all feels too heavy.
I pulled out my phone and called Brooke. She picked up almost immediately, her voice casual as ever.
"What's up, Kay?" she said, probably munching on something.
"Mum's health is deteriorating," I whispered, my voice breaking.
Her tone shifted instantly. "What? Is that what the doctor said? There's something we can do about it, right?"
"According to her," I sniffed, "the treatment she's receiving now can only sustain her for a while."
My voice trembled. "My mum is all I have, Brooke."
"I know, Kayla." Her voice softened, and I could hear her sniffling too.
"The funniest thing," I choked out, "is that I can't even cry in front of her. She still sees me as that strong daughter who never breaks."
Tears rolled freely down my cheeks now.
"Kayla…" was all Brooke could manage.
"She has suffered so much already, Brooke. And here I am, still asking her to hold on. What should I do?"
"Everything will be fine, Kay. Aunty will be fine too. You just have to hang in there, okay?"
"For how long?" I whispered. "I'm tired."
I ended the call and dropped my phone on my lap, covering my face as sobs tore out of me.
People walked by, staring, whispering—
"Why's she crying so loudly?"
"What happened to her?"
Their words stung, but I didn't care.
When the world started feeling too heavy again, I stood up and walked away from the hospital. My shift at the restaurant was in an hour, but my feet led me somewhere else.
A playground.
Children ran around laughing, chasing each other with carefree joy. I watched them and felt a sudden ache in my chest. Memories flooded in — Mom and I, running across a playground just like this one, laughing until our sides hurt.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I even realized it.
Then I saw a high school girl passing by with her friends, a cello case strapped to her back.
The sight made my heart race. I hadn't touched one in months — not since things got bad.
Before I could stop myself, I was standing in front of her. "Hi, um… could I maybe borrow your cello? Just for a few minutes?"
She blinked, then smiled brightly. "Sure! Go ahead."
She handed it over, and my hands trembled as I opened the case.
The moment I drew the bow across the strings, everything else faded. The pain, the noise, the fear.
Just me, the sound, and the wind.
Playing the cello was the only thing that ever truly healed me.
And right there, under that cloudy sky, it reminded me — I still had a reason to keep going.
***
Logan's POV
***
I sat quietly on one of the benches at the playground — the only place I drive to when I need to breathe, to escape everything for a while.
I didn't have any special memories here, but somehow, the laughter of children and the rustle of the trees gave me a strange sense of calm.
Then I heard it.
A soft melody at first — faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. But the closer it got, the more it filled the air… and the more peace it brought me.
I frowned slightly, scanning the area. The sound tugged at something deep inside me, pulling me in like a magnet.
I stood and followed it.
A small crowd had gathered near the open field, heads turned in one direction. I moved closer, weaving through the people until I could see what they were all staring at.
And then I saw her.
A girl with long, dark hair, sitting under the sunlight with a cello in her hands. Her eyes were closed, her expression calm yet intense — like every note she played came straight from her soul.
The sun hit her skin just right, and for a moment, everything around her seemed to pause.
She didn't look fancy — her clothes were simple, her hair slightly messy — yet there was something about her… something I couldn't look away from.
I didn't even realize I was smiling until I caught myself.
"What is she doing to me?" I muttered under my breath, the corner of my lips lifting again. "Did I just… smile?"
***
Kayla's POV
***
I stopped playing, my fingers still trembling against the strings.
For a second, the world was silent—then came the applause. Loud, warm, and unexpected. I blinked and looked up, realizing a small crowd had gathered around me. Their faces were bright with admiration, and for the first time in a long while… I felt alive.
"Wow, that was incredible!" the girl who lent me the cello exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement.
"Thank you," I said softly, handing her back the instrument.
"Where did you learn to play like that?"
"I… didn't, really," I admitted with a shy smile. "I just read a few things from books and practiced whenever I could—back when I was in college."
Before I dropped out.
"That's insane," she laughed. "You play like someone who's been trained for years."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small card. "Here—take this."
I frowned a little. "What's this?"
"It's the address to a music store. They lend out instruments for free practice sometimes. I was invited, but I already have my own cello."
"Are you serious?" My heart skipped. "That's… amazing!"
"Yeah, but…" she teased, tilting her head. "There's one small condition."
I raised a brow. "What kind of condition?"
"You'll have to teach me a few notes," she said, grinning.
I laughed. "Deal. And thank you—really, this means a lot."
"Anytime. Oh, I'm Skye, by the way."
"Kayla." I smiled and shook her hand just as my phone alarm went off.
"Crap—I'm late!" I grabbed my bag and started running toward the bus station.
"I'll see you there, Kayla!" Skye shouted after me.
I waved without turning back, sprinting through puddles until I reached the main road. But then—
My feet froze.
A familiar black Benz rolled to a slow stop just across the street. My heart dropped.
The tinted window lowered, and for the first time, I saw him.
He was sitting in the backseat—dark hair perfectly tousled, the kind that looked effortlessly expensive. His sharp jawline caught the light, and his deep-set eyes were cold but captivating, like he was used to people either fearing him or falling for him.
He wore a fitted black suit, the kind that screamed money and power. But it wasn't just his look—it was the way he carried himself. Calm. Controlled. Untouchable.
For a second, our eyes met.
It was him.
The man from the car.
The one who ruined my dress.
The one whose voice I still couldn't forget.
He rolled the window back up just as I opened my mouth to speak.
No glance. No expression. Just the quiet hum of the engine as the car glided away, leaving me standing in the middle of the street
My fists tightened at my sides.
"We'll definitely meet again," I whispered under my breath, my voice trembling with something between anger and curiosity.
Clutching my bag tighter, I turned and climbed into the next bus that pulled up, my heart still racing as the city blurred past the window.