The Disabled Maestro Is My Judge
Language: en
It was my seventh autumn in Vienna when I ran into my ex-wife, Savannah Reilly. She was here accompanying Asher King, her protégé, for the International Piano Competition, and her gaze snagged on the empty sleeve of my right arm. Asher, the young pianist, offered a too-wide smile and a cheerful, "Hello, Professor Cross," before deliberately bringing up the fire. Savannah watched me, her expression a complicated mix of guilt and pity. "Asher didn't mean it, Alistair. I thought it was just a fracture, I never imagined..." The wind stole the rest of her words, and I had no interest in…