Chapter 1054:

Something was off. The melody… it was too familiar. What started as vague déjà vu soon settled into certainty. Carrie’s composition mirrored Aliza’s earlier performance—too closely.

The phrasing, the rhythm, even the subtle harmonic turns bore a startling resemblance. At least seventy percent, if not more. Yes, Carrie’s execution was more polished, more technically controlled. But Aliza had played first. To the audience, that made all the difference.

In their eyes, Aliza had introduced the style. Carrie’s performance, though beautiful, now carried the heavy shadow of imitation. And imitation, no matter how refined, could not steal the crown from originality.

The judges exchanged glances. Silent, but telling. One shook his head ever so slightly; another let out a slow breath.

They made no move to interrupt—not because of Luca Morrison’s influence as president of the Music Association, and certainly not to favor his family—but out of respect for the art itself. They would listen to the piece in full. The music deserved that much.

to scrutiny. The Morrison name carried weight, but not

the competitors—would not still be just another

in the room. Her fingers glided, her

hesitant, and far from enthusiastic. The clapping felt obligatory. Thin

tales

the back row, Aliza exhaled quietly and leaned back, a wisp of a smile curling on

name might tilt the balance, that the audience might gloss over the obvious out of reverence or fear. But she had underestimated the audience’s pride in their artistry. These were musicians, composers—people who held music sacred. Plagiarism, to them, was not a minor sin. It was a stain. And she knew—should anything go awry—she

tightened in her stomach. The applause was tepid. Polite, at best. She had played beautifully—she knew that. Perhaps not awe-inspiring, but

swept across the hall, searching for clues. Then she caught it—someone had murmured Aliza’s name. And Randell’s.

they performed something similar? Was that

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