"His mother died after eight months," Arthur said in a lower voice. "And Philip disappeared. The newspapers wrote that he had collapsed emotionally, that he could no longer play. Some said his hands trembled too much from grief."
Catherine listened to every word. A tear ran down her cheek, ruining her perfect makeup.
An elderly lady shook her head. "That poor boy sacrificed his career for his mother."
"And when it was all over," the professor added, "he had nothing left: no contract, no money. The music world is cruel. If you disappear, they forget you quickly."
Arthur closed his phone. "And here he is, seven years later, delivering packages to make a living. But he can still play like a master."
A young man in a dinner jacket turned toward Catherine. "And you treated him like trash."
The words hit like a slap. Catherine covered her face with her hands.
"Mark, don't be so harsh," a woman said.
"Harsh?" Mark replied. "She humiliated him in front of everyone! She made him that ridiculous proposal, thinking he was a nobody!"
"Stop, please!" Catherine suddenly cried out. Her voice was broken, full of emotions. "Stop, please!"
Everyone looked at her. She lowered her hands. Her eyes were red, mascara running down her cheeks.
"You are right," she said with a trembling voice. "You are all right. I did something horrible. I... I didn't know."
"Not knowing is no excuse," Arthur said severely.
"I know!" Catherine raised her voice, then calmed down. "I know. Even if he hadn't been Philip Mercer, even if he had truly been just a delivery man, what I did was cruel, unjust, unforgivable."
She looked around. Her friends, the people who had always admired her, now looked at her with disapproval.
"I have spent my whole life surrounding myself with luxury," she said softly. "With beautiful things, with important people. And I forgot the most important thing."