The tension in the von Trapp townhouse was palpable, lingering in the air long after the Schraeders had stormed out in fury. Their loud accusations and threats still echoed in Hedwig's ears as she sat on the parlor sofa, lost in her own world of guilt and regret. Johann, on the other hand, paced back and forth, his face twisted with anger.
"I cannot believe this," Johann muttered for the umpteenth time, his voice low and bitter. "Our son, throwing his future away because of some childish delusion about love."
Hedwig glanced at him but said nothing. His words stung—though not for the reason he intended. Her thoughts weren't on Georg's actions but on her own failings as a mother. She slumped back into the cushions, her hands wringing in her lap. Perhaps, in her pursuit of status and security, she had neglected what truly mattered. Georg's words from earlier had been a dagger to her heart: Why did she allow her husband to treat their son the way he did? Why did she force a marriage he never wanted?
"He's ungrateful," Johann growled. "After everything we've done for him—his education, his career, his standing in society—and he throws it all away for...what? Some foolish notion of true love?"
Hedwig's eyes welled up, but she didn't respond. She felt more pity for herself than for anyone else in that moment. Pity for the years she'd spent turning a blind eye to her son's unhappiness, pity for the realization that Georg had never truly felt loved by his parents. She thought of her own marriage—a union built on convenience, not passion—and how it had shaped the path she had wanted for her son.
"I should have done more," she whispered to herself. "I should have done everything in my power to make Georg happy."
Johann scoffed at her words. "Happy? He has everything a man could want! A stable future, a beautiful wife, and a life of privilege! What more does he think he deserves?"
Hedwig didn't answer. She could see now that Johann would never understand. He had always been focused on appearances, on reputation, and on control. And now, their son had rebelled against it all.
The house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. They both sat in a tense silence, waiting. Max had gone off to find Georg after his sudden disappearance, but there had been no word from him yet. Hedwig's worry gnawed at her. She hadn't even seen where Georg had gone—one moment, he was speaking to Elsa, and the next, he had slipped out the back door and vanished into the Vienna streets. A taxi had been called, but beyond that, they were clueless as to his whereabouts.
Suddenly, a loud knock echoed through the hall, startling them both. Hedwig's heart leapt in her chest, and she shot to her feet, nearly colliding with Johann, who had also jumped up at the sound.
"Max," Hedwig breathed, rushing toward the door, her pulse racing with hope. Maybe Max had found him. Maybe Georg was back, and they could talk this through—maybe even fix things with Elsa before it was too late.
She reached the door, her fingers trembling as she turned the handle. Johann stood stiffly behind her, his face still hard with irritation but clearly just as eager to see who was there.
The door swung open, revealing—
It wasn't Max. It wasn't Georg either.
Instead, it was Hede, breathless and flushed from her hasty journey from France. She had dropped everything upon hearing the news of her brother's disappearance and had come straight to their Vienna townhouse. Without a word, Hede rushed to her mother and wrapped her arms around her in a tight, comforting embrace.
"Mother," Hede whispered urgently. "Where is Georg?"
Hedwig, tears brimming in her eyes, couldn't respond right away. Johann stepped forward, his face a thundercloud of frustration. "Your ungrateful brother ran away from his responsibilities," Johann spat, his voice sharp and biting. "He abandoned us and left that poor girl at the altar."
Hede's face tightened with worry as she turned to her mother, sensing the heavy weight of guilt radiating from Hedwig. She saw the tears that began to stream down her mother's cheeks, and Hedwig finally broke down, her sobs shaking her frail frame.
"We failed him, Hede," Hedwig choked out between sobs. "We never let him be happy. We pushed him too far, and now he's gone. What kind of family are we if we can't even give our son the chance at a life he wants?"
"Failed him?" Johann bellowed, his fists clenching. "No. He is the one who failed us! After everything we've done for him—"
Hede had heard enough. Without a word, she gently took her mother's hand and led her away from Johann, who remained in the foyer, grumbling angrily to himself. Hede guided her mother back into the parlor, where the tension in the air was heavy, and sat her down on the sofa. She knelt beside her, gently wiping away the tears from her mother's cheeks.
"Tell me everything, Mother," Hede whispered softly, her voice filled with both concern and tenderness.
Through stifled sobs, Hedwig explained what had happened between her and Georg earlier. She recounted the heated words, how Georg had refused to marry Elsa, and how he had spoken about love—the love that he could never feel for Elsa. Then, with a heavy heart, Hedwig admitted what she had long feared: Georg had never truly let go of Maria.
"I don't think he ever stopped loving her," Hedwig confessed, her voice trembling. "Even though he never spoke the words, I could feel it. The way he looked when we spoke about her... It's like she never left his heart."
Hede stiffened at the mention of Maria. "But, Mother... she left him. She left him for another man. That's what Father told me."
Hedwig shook her head, her expression one of sorrow and frustration. "Hede, you should know better than to believe everything your father says. You know how he's always felt about Maria, and you should know better than to turn your back on your own friend."
Hede's confusion deepened. "But Father said—he told me Maria ran off without a word, that she didn't care about Georg anymore."
Hedwig sighed deeply. "Your father never liked Maria. He thought she was beneath our family, and he did everything he could to poison your brother against her." She squeezed Hede's hands. "I've heard from the staff how kind and joyful Maria was, how much she meant to both of you. I confess, I even took great lengths in asking your father to accompany me everywhere ever since I heard of your escapades at the villa." She smiled wistfully. "She didn't leave because she wanted to, Hede. I've thought your father might have something to do with it, and his actions today proved that."
Hede's face crumbled, the weight of her guilt crashing down on her. "Oh, Mother... I've been so cruel to her. I thought she'd betrayed us, betrayed me." Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes. "I should have known better. I should have stood by Georg."
Hedwig wrapped her arms around her daughter, pulling her close. "It's not your fault, darling. We've all made mistakes, but what's done is done. All we can do now is look to the future."
Hede sobbed quietly into her mother's shoulder, guilt gnawing at her insides. "If only I hadn't believed Father... if only I'd done something, maybe Georg wouldn't have run off."
Hedwig stroked her daughter's hair, trying to comfort her, though she shared the same regrets. "We can't change the past, Hede. But we can help your brother now—if we can find him."