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

at least some use.

Leonard himself. The damage was so severe it was

been for Mr. Burton

left with permanent,

started falling again. Star was

talented than even Harry, the celebrated violinist, and

legendary Nora had been in her prime. Stella

now, her future—her lifelong passion—had been destroyed. It was

worse than death.

looked instinctively at

but she managed

Mr. Burton. "Thank you, Mr. Burton. I'll leave it

with deep regret. Such

surgery, the better," he

so we can operate first thing in the

surgery like

planning and

preparation. Tomorrow morning

was the earliest possible.

the room, unable to bear staying any

he was gone, Stella turned to Haynes and

me

They quietly filed out.

bed, voice

blame

gently. "None of this

fault. If we need to

should

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