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Chapter 8: A Song for Ava
The wind outside whispered like an old lullaby, curling around the windows as if trying to sneak into Room Nine. But Ava wasn't listening to the storm.
She was listening to Eli.
She had returned to the Silent Room the past two nights—never speaking, never daring to enter, just standing by the door as the piano sang. The music changed each time. Sometimes tentative, like fingertips brushing the edge of a memory. Sometimes bold, demanding to be heard. But tonight, it was… different.
It wasn't just music anymore.
It was a story.
Ava's breath caught in her throat as the melody climbed—fragile and full of ache. Notes lingered like a question asked too softly. She sat on the hallway floor, arms around her knees, eyes closed.
And then she heard it.
Her name. Not in words. But in rhythm. In emotion.
The song was about her.
Eli's fingers on the keys didn't just play music—they painted what he had come to feel. Hesitation. Kindness. A storm hidden behind a smile. There was light in the chords… and sorrow in the silences between them.
Her chest tightened.
He had seen her. Not with eyes, but with sound. With soul.
Suddenly, the music stopped.
Ava stood before she could stop herself. Her palm hovered near the doorframe.
It creaked open slowly.
Eli sat at the piano, his back to her, motionless.
She stepped in—quiet, hesitant.
"You came in," he said, voice low but steady.
"I had to," she whispered. "That song… you were playing me."
He nodded slightly. "It's how I remember you."
"But… you don't even know me."
Eli turned, his unfocused eyes still managing to make her feel seen. "You'd be surprised what a melody can reveal."
Ava's throat tightened. She took another step, drawn forward like a moth to something warm—something dangerous.
"Why did you stop?" she asked.
"Because the ending isn't mine to write," he replied softly. "You have to choose it."
And in that moment, Ava realized something terrifying and beautiful—
This wasn't just a song.
It was an invitation.