Chapter 1 - THE NAME INSIDE THE ENVELOPE
Vanessa had never asked me for help like that before.
Not once.
Even as children, she would rather blame someone else than admit she was scared.
But now she stood in front of me wearing my emerald dress, her face drained of color, her hands trembling against the fabric she had been so determined to steal twenty minutes earlier.
“Claire, please.”
I kept my bow resting against the strings of the Stradivarius.
“What happened?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“They think I’m you.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“At the donor reception.”
Of course.
The emerald dress.
Suddenly I understood.
Three weeks earlier, Eleanor Hayes had asked me to attend a private photography session for the orchestra foundation.
Nothing elaborate.
A few portraits.
A short interview.
Photos for what she called “future promotional material.”
I had worn the emerald dress.
What Eleanor had not told me was when those photographs would be used.
Apparently tonight.
Vanessa swallowed.
“There are programs downstairs.”
“What programs?”
“With your picture.”
I stared at her.
She continued quickly.
“You’re wearing this dress in the photograph, and some woman saw me from behind and called me Claire.”
“And you corrected her?”
Silence.
Of course she hadn’t.
“Vanessa.”
“I didn’t know!”
“You didn’t know your own sister’s name?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Her eyes darted away.
“She asked whether I was excited about the announcement.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What announcement?”
“I don’t know.”
“You obviously know something.”
Vanessa looked close to tears.
“She said congratulations.”
“For what?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
Her voice dropped.
“She said Mrs. Hayes was about to announce the new fellowship.”
My fingers tightened around the bow.
Eleanor had mentioned establishing a fellowship.
A serious one.
Two years of conservatory tuition.
Living expenses.
Travel funding.
International master classes.
Access to foundation instruments.
It was the kind of support that could change the entire beginning of a young musician’s career.
But she had never told me who would receive it.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Claire, people started taking pictures with me.”
My stomach dropped.
“You let them?”
“I didn’t realize what was happening at first.”
“Then what happened?”
She looked down at the dress.
“A reporter asked what it felt like to be the first recipient.”
I stared at her.
“And what did you say?”
Her silence became unbearable.
“Vanessa.”
“I said I was honored.”
For three full seconds, I couldn’t speak.
She had stolen my dress.
Destroyed my grandfather’s violin.
Walked into a donor reception.
Been mistaken for me.
And instead of correcting anyone, she had accepted congratulations meant for someone else.
“You need to go downstairs and tell them the truth.”
Her head snapped up.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Claire, there were cameras.”
“That is exactly why you need to correct it.”
“They’ll think I deliberately impersonated you.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t!”
“You stopped correcting them after you understood who they thought you were.”
Her face twisted.
“Can’t you just say we switched dresses?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because we didn’t.”
She stared at me like I had betrayed her.
That was Vanessa’s greatest talent.
She could hurt you and somehow still feel abandoned when you refused to protect her from the consequences.
Before she could answer, footsteps approached.
Eleanor Hayes appeared in the hallway.
She was seventy-two, elegant, silver-haired, and usually impossible to rattle.
Tonight she looked furious.
Her eyes moved from me...
to Vanessa...
to my emerald dress.
Then she looked at Vanessa’s face.
“So,” Eleanor said quietly.
“You’re the sister.”
Vanessa went completely still.
Eleanor turned toward me.
“Claire, Maestro Cole needs you in ninety seconds.”
I nodded.
Then Eleanor glanced at the locked violin case behind me.
“And after you perform, we are going to discuss what happened to your grandfather’s instrument.”
Vanessa’s face changed.
“How do you know?”
Eleanor looked at her.
“There are security cameras in every backstage corridor.”
Vanessa stopped breathing.
May you like
Eleanor continued.
“And unfortunately for you, the camera outside this dressing room recorded exactly who carried that violin inside before it was broken.”
