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

herself at least some use. But her

was so severe it was

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

with permanent,

was so gifted, a prodigy with

than even Harry, the

the legendary Nora had been in

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

worse than death.

instinctively

stunned, her face pale, but she managed to keep

"Thank you, Mr.

looked at her with

he

so we can operate

like

and a lot

preparation. Tomorrow morning

was the earliest possible.

Burton left the room, unable to bear

was gone, Stella turned to Haynes and the others. "Could

me a moment

They quietly filed out.

over the bed, voice trembling. "Star,

don't blame

her off gently. "None

If we need to

should be