Ella’s POV
The moment Ethan lifted the microphone, silence fell so abruptly it felt unnatural—like the air itself had frozen mid-breath.
Every eye in the hall turned toward him.
I watched his fingers tighten around the mic, knuckles whitening as though he were afraid it might slip from his grasp and take his courage with it. His shoulders rose and fell once, twice, as he drew in a slow, steadying breath.
Then he spoke.
“A decade ago,” Ethan began, his voice rough but clear, “I walked out of Ublento Art Academy as the top graduate.”
A ripple of surprise spread through the audience.
“Rosa was my hero,” he continued, and my heart clenched at the sound of my name on his lips. “I had big dreams. I thought I’d finally earned my place in the art world. I was ready to make something real of
