Henry looked up at Marcus.
“You choose,” Marcus whispered.
Henry turned back to Lila. “Listen… first.”
She nodded. “Then we will begin there.”
She sat at the pianoforte and pressed a single note. Soft. Warm. A note that didn’t demand anything from the boy, only offered a place to settle.
Henry’s shoulders eased.
Lila played another. Then a third. Each one spaced like a careful breath. She shifted into a child’s melody Marcus recognized from two days before. This time, Henry didn’t cling to his coat or draw back. He stepped closer.
Marcus felt something loosen in his chest.
After a time, Lila lifted her hands. “Would you like to try a sound?”
Henry hesitated. Then nodded.
Marcus stepped slightly aside to give them space.
“Does he always listen so carefully?” he asked quietly.
Lila glanced toward Henry before answering.
“Only when he trusts the room.”
“And today?”
She watched Henry cross to the stool.
“Today he trusts it a little more.”
Marcus nodded once.
“So do I.”
The words escaped before he considered them.
Lila looked at him, studying his face as though weighing whether he meant the room… or her.
Marcus turned his attention back to Henry.
She guided him to the stool but did not touch him. Instead, she tapped a single key. “This one. If you would like.”
Henry raised his hand. His fingers trembled, but he pressed the note.
The sound rang soft and true.
Henry’s eyes lifted at once.
For a moment he looked not at the keys but at the two adults watching him.
Miss Edgewood stood still beside the pianoforte. His father stood near the window, as he always did during lessons.
Something about the quiet between them felt different today.
Henry did not know why.
