Moira had spent the whole afternoon diligently in the piano room. After she finished the final piece, her fingers were sore.

She held her phone, reluctant to open it.

But the number of unread messages was overwhelming, so she reluctantly placed her phone on the table. She massaged her fingers as she opened the message box.

Lenka: [How's your leg recovery going? Are you able to work yet? A company overseas is inviting you to perform at their first concert.]

Juliet: [So, did Cynthia contact you today?]

Following Juliet's message was one from Cynthia.

Cynthia: [Are you angry, Moira? I'm sorry, but can you tell me why? What did I do to make you mad?] Accompanied by a crying cat emoji.

Cynthia sent this message at around three in the morning. Moira didn't initially want to reply, but upon seeing her pitiful emoji, her damned soft heart melted.

After some consideration, Moira sent a tactful reply. [I'm not angry, and I don't dislike you. I'm just embarrassed. I love boys. I'm not worth your affection!]

Moira suspected Cynthia was waiting with bated breath for her reply. Just as she sent the message, Cynthia replied instantly. [You finally replied to me! It's okay. I just like you! You're super cute!] Was Cynthia genuinely clueless or just pretending?

Just as Moira was about to make things clearer, she heard a sound from the hallway.

Moira instinctively looked up and saw Barclay, dressed to the nines, walking in.

He walked to the shoe cabinet, bent down to change his shoes, and reached to loosen his tie. Moving to the table, he poured a glass of water, drinking while unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. Moira watched as his rolling Adam's apple gradually revealed itself, involuntarily blushing again.

She guiltily averted her gaze and vigorously rubbed her right-hand fingers. "You're back?"

"Yeah."

on her

been practicing the piano

was used

for several years now, often recurring and never fully

glass, looked at her, and asked,

Moira stiffened and finally

she had

her face flushing

anymore. I'm sorry, Mr. Covington.

and just slightly lowered his

head to look at her phone. Cynthia had sent a bunch

was startled and

I

I

you are very pure! I love boys.

makes me embarrassed

rather than later. We should cut off contact sooner, so you can move

she knew

naturally didn't want

responded. [Moira,

think you might have

appreciation, not

[Moira, you're so

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