For so long, the Ainsworth Clan had been developing medication for Wyatt's illness, yet they had made no progress.
"What should we do?" Ian Ainsworth was particularly anxious.
The number of pianists in line dwindled one by one, and Wyatt's condition continued to worsen.
Even after all the pianists had tried, nothing changed.
The atmosphere grew even more somber; the pianists dared not speak, feeling that Queen's condition was worsening.
Otherwise, with so many people, there should have been some effects...
Zeke Landry's face was frighteningly grim, "Vera, give it a try."
Everyone knew that Vera Ainsworth was a musical genius, not in singing, but in composing and writing lyrics.
Generally, people in this line of work knew a bit about musical instruments.
Vera hesitated for a few seconds, "Uncle, I'm afraid I can't."
"There's no one else, just try," Zeke said in a deep voice.
"I know I'm no match for the piano masters, no need to waste time," Vera explained.
