Amy Sinclair's face flushed crimson with humiliation under Mr. Pendleton's piercing gaze.

Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap. There were no excuses left to make.

She inhaled sharply, steadying her trembling voice. "You're absolutely right... This is entirely my doing. I surrendered too quickly, and only now do I see my grave mistake." Her eyes lifted pleadingly. "Mr. Pendleton, I swear on my love for music—I'll never abandon my passion so carelessly again. Could you possibly... find it in your heart to reconsider?"

The legendary musician's face remained impassive, his tone carefully controlled. "Ms. Sinclair, that opportunity was already extended. You're the one who let it vanish between your fingers." His voice grew firmer. "The world of classical music isn't some casual hobby you can pick up and discard at whim—appearing when convenient and disappearing when challenged."

He paused, and Amy felt her heart constrict painfully. "You offered me a chance?" she breathed, barely audible. "When?"

Mr. Pendleton's steel-gray eyes bore into hers. "Recently. I recognized extraordinary potential in you, so I arranged a meeting."

His gaze flickered toward Alexander, who stood stiffly nearby.

"Your husband attended in your stead. He informed me you were preoccupied with the Blackwoods and declined my invitation."

Amy whirled toward Alexander, shock flashing across her features. "You met with Mr. Pendleton without telling me?"

Alexander couldn't meet her accusatory stare, his silence speaking volumes.

The betrayal stung, but this wasn't the moment for confrontation. Swallowing her rising anger, she turned back to the maestro. "I'm deeply sorry. I never knew. If only you'd—"

Mr. Pendleton raised a weathered hand. "At my age, Ms. Sinclair, energy is precious. Years ago, I resolved to mentor only one final protégé."

His stern expression softened as he glanced at Victoria standing quietly beside him. "Victoria here is my last student."

Victoria offered a serene smile. "I'm honored, maestro."

Pride warmed the old musician's eyes. "Victoria may lack your innate brilliance, but her devotion to music is absolute. She's persevered through illness, through every obstacle." His voice grew reflective. "Over decades, I've selected many phenomenally gifted students—but what value has raw talent without relentless dedication?"

The weight of his words filled the room. "I've made errors in judgment. Some I rejected for lacking natural ability became celebrated musicians through sheer determination. Meanwhile, those I chose for their genius?" He sighed. "Most abandoned their craft—distracted by romance or convinced their talent required no cultivation. At the first setback, they quit. Now? Their potential lies wasted."

He drew a measured breath. "That's why, with my final apprentice, I chose differently."

The sharpness in his gaze mellowed into something almost paternal.

Amy's lips parted, desperate words dying unspoken. The crushing realization settled over her—some chances appear only once. Miss them, and they're lost forever.

Perhaps yesterday, Mr. Pendleton might have considered another extraordinary student. Today, that door had closed. His final selection was made.

The light in Amy's eyes dimmed.

Then Julian, silent until now, spoke with quiet conviction. "Mr. Pendleton, Ms. Sinclair genuinely knew nothing of your invitation. Had she known, she'd have moved heaven and earth to attend."

Understanding dawned in the maestro's expression. He offered a regretful smile. "My decision stands. I won't be taking additional students."

Undeterred, Julian pressed gently, "Ms. Sinclair's talent is exceptional, and her passion for music remains undimmed. Even if not as a formal student—might you offer guidance to help rediscover her path?"