MY FINGER 8

Chapter 8 

After my hand had mostly healed, I started working as a music teacher at the welfare home. 

The kids there were sweet and endlessly sincere-no matter what I played, they clapped and cheered as if I were the most talented pianist in the world. 

“Ms. Olason is amazing! She’s the best piano teacher ever, way better than the Chopin in our textbook!” 

When they noticed my missing finger, they would say things like, “Ms. Olason must be too perfect, so God got jeal- ous and took one away.” 

Jealous, huh? 

I would just smile and say, “Maybe.” 

The truth was, I was not as good as I used to be. However, their unreserved praise slowly patched up the cracks in my heart. 

Erik used to praise me, too. 

He would praise my elegant hands, my music, and my gentle and careful nature. 

However, ever since Tania came back, he started nitpicking-complaining that my cooking was awful, my hands were useless ornaments, and that the piano was a waste of time. My gentleness became “petty jealousy,” my care be- came “overbearing control.” 

In my hometown, aside from the little angels at the welfare home, I also ran into my childhood friend, Giorgio Rosen- lund. 

Back then, we had planned to apply to the same university. 

However, I loved music, and he was into mechanical engineering. 

So our paths split. 

I had always heard stories from my mother about how he turned out. 

Not only had he started his own company, but he had also developed a market-leading intelligent robot. 

When I asked why he came back, he just smiled and said, “When you drink the water, think of those who dug the well. I’m just giving back to my hometown.” 

I did not press for the real reason, just like he never asked about my missing finger. 

We started visiting the welfare home together-me teaching piano, him teaching the kids mechanical crafts. 

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Chapter 8 

Watching them laugh and run around felt like stepping back into childhood. 

“Woof woof!” 

The sudden barking made me jump, but it was just Giorgio, holding a little mechanical dog in his hand. 

“This is a dog that doesn’t bite. For you.” 

He set it on the ground, and I could not help but laugh at its clumsy wobbling. 

When we were kids, he once took me to steal apricots from a neighbor’s tree. I got chased and bitten by their dog. 

Ever since then, I liked dogs but never dared to touch them. 

“For me?” I asked. 

Then, I reached out and patted the robot dog’s head. 

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What is going on in your head? I just had an extra test model, so I’m giving it to you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Why? Disappointed?” 

“You’re overthinking it.” 

Giorgio’s eyes curved like little crescents. “I’m kidding. I’ve been making this for a long, long time…” 

The days in my hometown were some of the happiest I have had in years. 

If only my hands did not ache whenever it rained. 

If only that message had not popped up out of nowhere, yanking me back into a nightmare I thought I had left behind. 

Tania’s profile picture was an intimate shot of her and Erik, face to face. 

She was beaming, all bright and cheerful. He was smiling too, but there was that familiar shadow in his eyes, a mix of resentment and calculation. 

“Hey, Cripple, remember to watch the live stream tonight. I’m about to enter the piano competition you’ve always dreamed of. 

“I’ll be playing the piece you poured your heart into composing. You stole my glory back in college, but tonight I’m taking it back.” 

For a second, I did not even know what she was talking about. 

I had to dig through my memories, piecing things together bit by bit, until it clicked. Back in university, there had been a state piano competition. 

The original contestant had dropped out for health reasons, and I stepped in at the last minute and ended up taking 

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first place. 

The name of the second-place winner finally surfaced in my mind. 

Tania Madsom. 

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Oh.