Elara remained slumped over the piano keys for a long time, the echo of her frustrated crash still ringing in her ears. The silence of the cottage had returned, but it felt heavier now, thick with her own disappointment. She had the tuned piano, she had Leo's song, but she was still broken.
She finally lifted her head, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the sleeves of her oversized cardigan. She moved to close the fallboard over the keys, ready to give up and retreat to her bed.
Before the wood could snap shut, a small sound stopped her.
It wasn't inside the house. It was outside, coming from the slightly open window facing the front porch. It sounded like a sharp intake of breath, followed by the shuffling of small feet on the wooden deck.
Elara froze. She hadn't seen a single soul near the cottage since she arrived, aside from Elias the tuner.
Slowly, she stood up and walked toward the window. Peering through the dusty glass, she saw nothing at first. But as she shifted her gaze downward, a mop of messy brown hair came into view, followed by two wide, curious green eyes peering over the window sill.
It was a little girl, perhaps seven or eight years old, wearing muddy yellow rainboots and a bright red raincoat that was at least two sizes too big for her.
The girl didn't run away when she saw Elara looking. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes, pressing her hands against the glass.
"Did you do that?" the girl asked. Her voice was muffled through the window, but clear enough.
Elara stared at her, unsure of what to do. She couldn't speak to answer her. She just gave a small, hesitant nod.
"It was pretty," the girl said. "The first part. Before the loud, angry bang."
Elara blinked, surprised. She unlocked the window and pushed it up a few inches. The crisp afternoon air rushed in.
"I'm Lily," the girl announced, unprompted. "I live down the lane, past the big oak tree. My mom says this house is haunted because nobody ever lives here. But ghosts don't play the piano, right?"
Elara shook her head, a tiny, involuntary smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.
Lily squinted at her. "Why aren't you saying anything? Are you a quiet person?"
Elara nodded again, pointing to her throat and shaking her head sadly.
"Oh," Lily said, her eyes widening in understanding. "My grandpa couldn't talk much after he got sick. But he could whistle. Can you whistle?"
Elara hadn't tried. She pursed her lips and tried to force a steady stream of air, but only a dry, airy hiss came out. She shook her head, feeling a familiar sting of tears.
"That's okay," Lily said cheerfully, completely unfazed by Elara's sadness. She pointed a muddy finger toward the piano behind Elara. "You can make that box talk instead. Will you play the pretty part again? The sad song?"
Elara looked back at the upright piano. The thought of sitting back down on that bench felt exhausting. But looking back at Lily's hopeful, expectant face, she felt a tiny crack in the ice around her heart. It was the first time in six months someone had asked her for music.
Slowly, Elara turned away from the window, walked back to the bench, and sat down. She found Middle C, took a deep breath, and began to play Leo's chords once more, letting the piano speak the words she couldn't.