"I think so," I said quietly.
He nodded. "Okay, good, then it's settled. You have a place to stay and I have a new piano teacher. Speaking of which, I'll need to get it tuned. It hasn't been played in years." Sadness appeared in his eyes for a brief second and then it was gone as he stood up. "You relax here today. Tomorrow, you'll meet Sophia. Marissa is here all day if you need anything."
I nodded as he walked past me. "Thank you," I said softly, gratitude and relief filling my chest and causing me to suck in a breath. His steps slowed as he walked past my chair, but he didn't say anything and a few minutes later, I heard a door close down the hall.
I spent the morning in my new room, reading the books I found on the night stand for the escape they brought, and curling into a ball and crying when I couldn't hold back the tears.
Around lunchtime, I heard Felix arrive home. Soon after, I heard the doorbell ring and then listened for the next hour to the sounds of the piano being tuned.
When a knock came at my door, I opened it and Marissa was standing there with a smile on her face.
"Lunch is almost ready, dear, and the piano is tuned if you'd like to try it out."
"Thank you, Marissa. You don't have to make me food though. I can come to the kitchen."
Marissa waved her hand as she walked away. "It's no trouble."
I nodded, but then called out, "Marissa?"
She turned. "Yes, dear?"
I cleared my throat. "Felix . . . um, does he . . . allow you to go out?"
Marissa tilted her head, furrowing her brows. "Go out? You mean out of the house?"
I felt color rise in my cheeks. "Yes. I mean, if you want to. Does he allow it?"
"Yes, of course. I'm free to do as I like, as are you." Her expression turned to one of concern.
"Okay," I said softly.
Marissa just kept looking at me for a second before she nodded her head and turned away.
I walked down the hall to the living room where I'd seen the large grand piano earlier and sat down at the bench, taking in a big breath before laying my hands on the keys. As I began to play, it felt like I was back there, in the main lodge, playing for the council, being paraded before them. I closed my eyes, tears escaping out of the corners to make their way slowly down my cheeks.
I heard someone speaking and opened my eyes, listening to the words being spoken in another room. Despite the sound of the piano, I could hear them clearly, the acoustics in the ceiling delivering the voices straight to my ears.
"She's good," I heard Felix say quietly.
"She's better than good, Felix. Where does she come from?" another man asked, the one who had tuned the piano, I assumed.
"I don't know. She hasn't told me. She seems so very sad, though."
There was a pause before the other man said, "I knew another piano player who brought that same quality to the music she played."
"Sadness?" Felix asked.
"More than that. A broken heart," the other man said very softly.
And then no more was said as the music poured out around me, coming from my fingers, my heart, the longing in my soul, from all the shattered places inside me. And each note echoed the same name . . . Calder, Calder, Calder.
**********
Calder
The street ten stories down swayed below me, the promise of a hard smack of concrete and then blessed oblivion calling to me so sweetly. I didn't want to resist. I hoped I'd register at least a few seconds of unfathomable pain before I floated away. I deserved it. I didn't want a death that didn't include misery. Had she suffered? Had she called my name in the dark as the water covered her and then filled her lungs with burning, suffocating terror? A sob, a loud gulp of tortured breath, escaped my throat and I took another swig from the half empty bottle in my hand. It slid down my throat in a slow slide of fire. Fire.
"Calder." I heard Xander's voice behind me, low and full of fear. "Brother, give me your hand."
I shook my head back and forth swiftly and swayed precariously on the ledge where I sat. Just a small tilt forward, even the intention of a tilt, and I'd plunge to my death below. To her.
"No, Xander," I said, my words slurring slightly. I was drunk, but not too drunk that I couldn't think clearly enough. Or I thought so anyway.
"What are you doing, Calder?" Xander asked, sitting on the ledge a little ways down from where I was. I glanced over at him and squinted. His voice was even, but his eyes were filled with panic.
"I hate to do this to you, brother. But it hurts too damn much. It was my fault. I don't deserve to live," I said.
"Then why are you alive?" Xander asked, his voice smooth and gentle, like a lullaby. My mom used to sing me lullabies when I was a little kid and couldn't sleep. Of course, my mom had also stood by while my dad tried to set me on fire. But I wouldn't think of that. I couldn't. My shoulders sagged and I felt the wetness on my face as a breeze blew by.
"You know what I think? I think you're alive because you're meant to be alive. For some reason, you're meant to be here. You're the only person who made it out of Acadia that day. The only one. And I, for one, refuse to believe there's not some purpose to that. I refuse to believe you didn't reach your hand up through that god-awful wreck of water-covered destruction so I could pull you out of there. And I want to help you discover what that reason is, Calder. Take my hand again. Take my hand and let me help you."