For our ninety-ninth engagement ceremony, Julian booked us a skydive. He said he wanted to tell me he loved me at thirty thousand feet.

My chute didn't open.

I got tangled in a big tree. I survived, yet suffered multiple fractures all over my body.

In the ward, I accidentally saw a message on the screen of our jump instructor's phone. It was addressed to Julian, and it carried a video. The video showed someone tampering with my chute before we boarded.

So the "accident" was Julian's idea?

I dragged myself out of bed on crutches, every bone in my body screaming, ready to confront him. I made it as far as the hallway. He was already there, talking to someone, and the moment I saw the other man, the floor tilted under me.

The man across from him was the same driver who'd hit me with his car the night before our last engagement. The hit-and-run that should have killed me.

"Mr. Veil, if you ever need me again, please reach out."

Julian's voice was flat, almost tired.

"There won't be a next time. I've tried everything I can think of. The engagement can't be postponed anymore."

"And the woman you actually love, sir?"

"I'll keep loving her," Julian said. "But Ada is the one I marry. Her mother gave my father a kidney. That's the debt. I have to pay it."

I stood there shaking, and the truth rearranged itself behind my eyes.

The camping trip he had planned, where I got lost and nearly died of hypothermia in the woods. That had been him.

The vitamin C he had handed me, the one that put me in the ICU. Him too.

And this time — the skydive, thirty thousand feet, “I want the sky to witness our love”. All of it.

Every single one of those accidents was him trying to delay the wedding.

But Julian, I thought, I could save you the trouble.

The next morning I accepted an offer that had been sitting in my inbox for weeks: an invitation from a world-class orchestra on the other side of the planet.

I sat in my hospital room shaking, my hands trembling on the grip of my crutch.

I didn't notice the visitors at first.

It wasn't until I tried to stand, needing the bathroom, that a girl in a white dress rushed forward to steady me.

"Ada," she said, "we're Professor Julian Veil's students. I'm Sheila. We heard about your accident. Let me help you."

I looked at her. Her face was soft and pretty, the kind of face people compared to a lily.

But her eyes were sharp and calculating. And her smile made the hair on my arms stand up.

I couldn't exactly refuse, so I let her walk me down the corridor. The second we reached the bathroom door, she leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear.

"Ada, want to make a little bet with me? Let's both fall down at the same time. We'll see who Professor cares about more."

Her stiletto came down on my broken leg.

Pain ripped through me. I went white, cold sweat sheeting down my back, and I crumpled onto the floor.

Sheila collapsed gracefully beside me and let out a theatrical wail that brought the other students and Julian running.

I was shaking so hard I couldn't speak.

Julian didn't even look at me. He scooped Sheila up and laid her on my hospital bed.

Sheila squeezed out two delicate tears.

"I heard Ada was hurt, so I came to visit. I was just trying to help her walk, and she said I had bad intentions. She pushed me. I think I twisted my ankle."

The other students turned to me with disgust written all over their faces.

"I heard the professor was forced into marrying her. She's actually this nasty? No wonder he's not happy about the wedding."

I didn't have the breath to defend myself. My lips were going blue from the pain. I gripped the doorframe and tried to drag myself upright. I fell twice.

I would not ask Julian for help.

Julian was busy massaging Sheila's ankle. He looked over at me, eyes cold.

"Ada. You're upset that I haven't visited. Fine. But don't take it out on my students. Sheila was being kind. How could you hurt her?"

Sheila patted Julian's hand, her expression more piteous than before.

"It's okay, Professor. Ada's a patient. She's just in a bad mood."

The more understanding she pretended to be, the more tender he became. The way he looked at her was full of love.

There was nothing complicated between them. Not like us. Between us there was always the debt, the favor he didn't want to repay, and it made every look he gave me feel like irritation.

Sheila whispered something in his ear.

Julian's brow tightened. He walked over and stood above me, looking down.

"I need to teach you a lesson. Otherwise, who knows how many more people you'll hurt using my name."

Then he helped Sheila up and led his entourage out of the room.

For the next three days, my surgical wound got infected, and no doctor came to change my dressings. Julian had pulled my admission file. I don't know how, but I was no longer officially a patient there.

Only one nurse felt sorry enough for me to sneak in some painkillers.

I cried as I dialed a number on my phone. "Is this Sonata World Orchestra? I'm accepting your invitation. I'm at Veil Private Hospital right now. Please — please come and save me."

Finally, an ambulance came. They wheeled me into emergency.

The last thing I thought before I lost consciousness:

[Julian doesn't deserve my love.]

I woke up in a SVIP suite.

The first thing I saw was Julian. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

He'd brought a small army of doctors and nurses. On the bedside table was a box of my favorite donuts.

It was like nothing had happened. Like we were back before Sheila, before the truth in the hallway.

Before all of it, Julian had been gentle with me, patient. That was how he'd fooled me so many times without me ever noticing.

When I didn't say anything, he picked up a chocolate one and held it to my lips, his expression almost guilty.

"Ada, sweetheart. I drove two hours to your favorite bakery. You need your strength back. Eat."

This was the eldest son of the Veil family, a celebrated musician with the entire industry hanging on his every word.

And he had driven two hours for a donut.

Maybe this was his version of an apology.

I took a bite. The chocolate hadn't even finished melting on my tongue when Julian's expression shifted.

He turned to the men standing along the wall.

"Get the hospital gown off her. Put her in performance wear."

I tried to sit up. "What are you doing? My injuries aren't —"

I might as well have argued with a wall. The two men stripped my gown off without so much as a glance at my face, zipped me into a black dress that didn't fit, and dropped me into a wheelchair.

I didn't find out where we were going until we got there.

It was the dress rehearsal for Sheila's graduation recital.

The musicians accompanying her were top-tier figures in classical music circles, and every single one of them was there as a favor to Julian.

I was a newly registered first-class violinist this year.

Julian shoved the violin into my hand and leaned close to my ear. "Ada, Sheila specifically told me she likes your accompaniment style. This is undoubtedly recognition of you. Play properly for her, and I will forgive you for hurting her in the name of the professor's wife."

Professor's wife?

Hurt her?

I laughed bitterly at myself. He had kept our relationship hidden all the time, as if acknowledging me as his fiancée was something shameful. How could I have done such a thing?

I mocked my own unrequited fondness.

Those donuts were merely a transaction to him.

Fortunately, my visa for the orchestra would arrive in a month.

My fractures still weren't fully healed. There was a bandage wrapped around my arm.

I tried my best, but I missed two notes during the accompaniment.

The second I finished, Sheila pounced. She pulled Julian aside, pointed at me across the room, and started to cry.

A minute later he came over, his face like a thundercloud.

"You know this piece backwards. How did you miss that many notes?"

"Were you doing it on purpose?"

"Is this how you repay my father for everything he's done for you? For my trust?"

The audience, the same people who had been clapping for me just minutes ago, started murmuring.

"The professor's right, you know. None of us caught it."

"So this 'world's number one violinist' title is a bit of a stretch, huh?"

Sheila pursed her lips and, in a voice just loud enough for me to hear, said: "Ada's mom used to work as the Veil family's housekeeper. They let her into the orchestra as a favor to Julian, you know…"

Heads nodded around her like the lights had just come on.

"Oh, that explains it. She got in through connections."

"A mother will do anything for her daughter."

"Honestly, you can see the bad intentions in her face."

My fingers tightened on my bow until my knuckles went white.

My mother had been a housekeeper.

But back then, if Mr. Veil hadn't seen my talent and insisted on keeping us, my mother would have been poached by royalty to run a manor. She had had better offers.

And when Mr. Veil got sick, when even Julian couldn't bring himself to risk donating a kidney to his own father, my mother walked into that operating room voluntarily. She was grateful that he had believed in me.

The night before her surgery, she had held my hand and made me promise:

[whatever happens, remember what the Veils have done for you.]

A surgical error left her in a vegetative state. She never woke up.

And now Sheila smiled brightly and added, "Ada's mom gave her body to Mr. Veil. That's how Ada ended up as first chair."

"Gave her body? What does that mean?"

Sheila giggled. "Oh, you know. The way women give their bodies."

A new wave of whispers swept through the room, this one with laughter under it.

I had let her insult me too many times. But my mother was another matter.

Rage I didn't know I had came out of my chest. I grabbed my violin and swung it at her.

"Shut your fucking mouth."

My arm gave out mid-swing. The violin never made contact. Julian caught it with a speed I hadn't expected.

The look on his face was the look you'd give a mortal enemy.

He closed the distance in two strides and slapped me across the face.

The whole room went silent. My eyes burned.

"My mother saved your father's life," I said, my voice scraping out of me. "And she's calling it whoring. How can you stand there and let her smear the woman who saved your family?"

Sheila clapped a hand to her mouth, the picture of innocence. "Ada, I said she donated her body! How can you twist my words like that?"

"I'm the professor's student. I would never, ever say anything bad about Mr. Veil."

"If you don't like me, just say so. You don't have to make things up."

Julian looked at me, my face still red from his hand, and his expression didn't soften an inch. If anything, it shifted into disgust.

"Did you hear her? She was stating a fact. You're so filthy you see filth in everything."

"I get it. You're petty. Yes, your mother saved my father. And yes, my father has supported you for years. Without us, you'd be exactly what your mother was: a housekeeper."

"And I've already agreed to marry you. Stop pushing."

Behind his back, Sheila let a small playful smile slip onto her face.

I looked at Julian, cold all the way through.

So this was what people sounded like when their hearts had changed.

If he had listened to a single word from anyone in that orchestra, he would have known what Sheila had really said.

He left me again.

They abandoned me on that wheelchair on the stage. The rehearsal ended, the musicians packed up and filed out, and nobody pushed me down off the platform.

Eventually Mr. Veil, Julian's father, noticed I hadn't come home and sent someone to find me.

The first thing I did once I could walk again was go to him.

"Mr. Veil, I want to call off the engagement."

Mr. Veil had always understood me. He had insisted Julian marry me because he respected the kind of person I was, and because of my music.

His face fell. He was quiet for a few seconds. Then he sighed.

"Will you think about it a little longer? For me?"

What I didn't know was that Julian had been at the door.

He caught me outside the study.

"Ada. What are you doing now? If you really wanted to end it, why bother telling my father? You know he'll just stop you."

"I know I've been distant the last few days. I'll fix it. But stop with the games."

I almost laughed. Games? I wasn't asking. I was informing.

He didn't give me the chance. He pulled a violin case from behind him and opened it.

My breath caught.

It was a Stradivarius. The Latin maker's label was visible through the f-hole.

"Be a good girl," he said. "Don't go after Sheila again, and everything you have stays yours. The engagement happens on schedule."

"After the engagement, I'll be the husband you deserve. I promise."

But Julian, I thought. It was already too late.

That night I went to see my mother in the hospital. I held her hand, still warm, still hers, even with the tubes, and I told her quietly:

"Mom. Even without the Veils, your daughter is going to prove she's the best violinist in the world. I'll earn enough to take care of you myself."

"Just the two of us. Like before. That's the best life there is."