Loving DAD 996

Chapter 996 

Sharon could hardly believe her eyes. 

She moved into the room as if in a trance and lifted Shaluna into her hands. The familiar weight, the texture beneath her fingers–it made her throat tighten, her vision blur with unshed tears. 

Clutching the violin to her chest, she felt the cold wood press against her skin, achingly precious, achingly 

familiar. 

She hadn’t cried in so long. Yet in this moment, tears slipped free, streaming down her face. 

This violin had been her mother’s gift to her. And still, she had watched helplessly as it was destroyed, powerless to protect it. 

That day, the grief had carved into her a bitter truth–that she wasn’t even strong enough to shield the things she loved most. 

Wendy’s chest constricted as she watched her dearest friend cry. Her own eyes grew hot, rimmed with red. 

She and Sharon had been inseparable for years. She had eaten countless meals at Shayla’s table, basked in her warmth and kindness. Shayla had been a gentle, radiant woman, untouched by time’s cruelty, her beauty and grace as luminous as ever. 

In Wendy’s memory, Shayla was always poised with a violin in her hands, dazzling, unforgettable. 

The day Shaluna was destroyed, Wendy’s heart had shattered–not only for Sharon, but for Shayla as well. 

That was the moment Wendy swore vengeance. Whatever the cost, she would see justice for Sharon. 1 

Later, when Sharon was in the hospital, Wendy had begged Julliard and Xavier to search for the violin. But they found nothing. 

Wendy had wanted to look for it herself, but Sharon had been gravely ill. She couldn’t abandon her side. 

In the end, it was Thomas–tired of Wendy’s constant questions–who took it upon himself to search. For days, he scoured every lead. According to him, the violin had been hidden deep inside a hollow tree, tucked away where no ordinary person would ever think to look. 

Now, Sharon gently plucked at the strings. 

The soft, trembling notes filled the room, carrying Wendy back through her own memories. 

Sharon’s hands could no longer summon the brilliance of her past performances; her chance to stand as a true violinist had long slipped away. But the music–simple, unadorned–still held its own quiet magic. 

The storm of emotion in her heart slowly began to settle. 

She turned toward Thomas. “The strings… they were replaced, weren’t they?” 

He inclined his head. “The damage was too severe. I found identical strings and restrung them myself.” 

Wendy blinked, pulling herself from her reverie. “Sharon, you should know—most of the restoration was 

1/3 

Thomas’s work. He studied artifact restoration once. His skill rivals the masters. 

When they had first found the broken violin, Wendy had wanted to send it out to be repaired. But Shaluna was too badly ruined. Even restringing it seemed impossible to accomplish perfectly. 

In the end, it was Thomas who had offered to try. 

Wendy had hesitated, doubtful, but handed it over anyway. Better to let him attempt it than show Sharon the wreckage and deepen her sorrow. 

She hadn’t expected much. 

Yet Thomas had worked tirelessly for over a month, and somehow, miraculously, the violin had been reborn. 

From the new strings to every careful repair, it was his handiwork alone. Wendy would never claim the credit. 

This–this was Thomas’s gift to Sharon. A gift unlike any 

other. 

When Wendy finished recounting the story, Sharon’s gaze lingered on Thomas. Something unspoken flickered in her eyes, a warmth that words could not capture. 

A thousand things swelled in her heart, yet all that came out was a single sentence. (1) 

“Thomas… thank you.” 

Thomas replied, “It’s part of my job. I was entrusted with your safety. If I hadn’t left so suddenly back then, Jamie would never have had the chance to abduct you. As for Jamie…” 1 

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