The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Mr. Burton let out a heavy sigh. "Alright."

Strictly speaking, the news about Stella shouldn't be told to her first—it should go

to her family. But in the room, everyone present was a friend. As for Haynes...

well, he was more of an ex-husband now, hardly family anymore.

To keep it from Stella, in front of all her friends, felt almost disrespectful. He

sighed again. "Alright," he said.

If Mr. Burton said he could save someone, he could. If he said there was no hope,

then there really was none.

He turned to Stella, his voice gentle but grave. "Stella, the best I can promise is

that your hands will look normal again—the bones will set properly, and you

shouldn't feel pain when it rains. In your daily life, no one will even notice

anything's wrong. You'll be able to work and live as usual. But..."

He paused, exhaling deeply, the weight of it all clear on his face.

"Your fingers won't be as nimble as they once were. Playing music will be very

difficult. Even painting will be affected. Especially... your left hand."

Stella had smashed her own right hand—she'd stopped short of destroying it

least some use. But her left

The damage was so severe

If it hadn't been for Mr. Burton performing the surgery himself,

been left with permanent,

started falling again. Star was so gifted, a prodigy

Harry, the celebrated violinist, and perhaps even

Nora had been in her prime. Stella

her future—her lifelong passion—had been destroyed.

worse than death.

instinctively at

pale, but she

you, Mr. Burton. I'll leave

with deep

better," he said

operate first thing

like

and a lot

preparation. Tomorrow morning

was the earliest possible.

Mr. Burton left the room, unable

to Haynes and

and me a

They quietly filed out.

the bed, voice trembling.

don't blame yourself."

her off gently. "None

we

it should be the