My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 109

She pulled the curtains closed and stood in silence for a moment, steeling herself. It was better to leave before the birthday dinner began.

Emily Blair seized her chance when the hallway was empty, slipping quietly downstairs and hiding in a shadowed corner.

But before she could make her escape, the guests from the garden began to file back inside.

Confused, Emily stayed hidden, cautiously peeking out from her hiding spot.

She watched as Isabella Austin, surrounded by a chorus of flattery, gracefully took her seat at the grand piano in the corner of the living room and lifted the lid.

With a gentle voice, Isabella said, “Since everyone wants to hear, I’ll play ‘Love’ for you all.”

As she spoke, Isabella glanced up and met Andrew Lane’s eyes. A flush rose on her cheeks—a look of longing and bashfulness flickered between them.

“This piece, ‘Love,’ is also something I wrote for Andrew,” she added softly.

Emily saw Andrew’s lips curl into a slight smile, the icy sharpness in his eyes melting, just for a moment.

Around them, the guests exchanged glances—curious, gossipy, and unmistakably intrigued.

The women who still harbored secret hopes for Andrew Lane looked crestfallen; it was clear they’d never have a chance.

But for Emily, Isabella’s words struck like a blow. Her pupils contracted, and her hands curled into tight fists.

How dare Isabella Austin?

How could she sit there, in front of everyone, and brazenly perform that piece?

How could she so shamelessly steal the work of someone who was gone, as if it meant nothing?

Emily’s gaze fixed on Isabella’s slender, pale fingers as they danced over the keys, coaxing out a melody she knew by heart.

The music was elegant, haunting—utterly captivating.

Nearly everyone in the room was entranced.

But all Emily could see behind Isabella’s triumphant performance was a memory—the struggle of that poor, hardworking, kind-hearted girl: Vivian Martin.

Emily’s eyes burned, her heart pounding. Grief and anger warred inside her.

“What a joke. If I were Ms. Austin, I wouldn’t be so patient. Honestly, Emily’s like a bad penny, always turning up.”

Emily met every pair of eyes in the room, reading the mockery and scorn on their faces.

So, this was why Andrew Lane wanted her to stay.

He wanted Isabella to humiliate her again, to clear Isabella’s name once and for all.

Andrew was more calculating than she’d imagined, all for Isabella’s sake.

Emily wanted to shout, to speak, to defend the memory of the real Vivian Martin.

But she couldn’t.

She was useless.

She could only let Andrew and Isabella lead her by the nose—powerless to resist.