Tom nodded."If there's anything else I can do, please let me know."
Cadie exchanged contact information with both men and thanked them for their time.As she left the building, the weight of what she'd learned settled over her.Her aunt had been trying to tell people something was wrong.But no one had listened closely enough.
*****
Her next appointment was with Carmine Thompson, a piano teacher who lived in a quiet residential neighborhood.The house was pale green with white trim, and flower boxes lined the windows.A small sign near the door read,Piano Instruction by Appointment.
Cadie parked on the street and walked up the front path.Before she could knock, the door opened to reveal a woman in her sixties with silver-streaked hair and an elegant bearing.She wore a silk blouse and tailored slacks, and her smile was warm and welcoming.
"You must be Cadie.Please, come in."
The interior was beautiful, with hardwood floors and antique furniture.A piano dominated the living room, its polished surface gleaming in the afternoon light.Sheet music was stacked neatly on a side table, and framed photographs lined the mantel.
"Thank you for seeing me, Ms.Thompson."
"Call me Carmine, please."She gestured toward a comfortable seating area near the piano."Can I offer you some tea?"
"That would be lovely."
Carmine disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a tray.She settled into a chair across from Cadie.The atmosphere was peaceful, unhurried.
"Your aunt and I worked together for many years," Carmine said."She was a gifted teacher and a dear friend.I miss her terribly."
"I'm trying to understand her final months," Cadie said, "how she was doing, what she was experiencing.Is there anything you remember could be helpful?"
Carmine considered the question."I saw her regularly at the conservatory, even after she stopped teaching full time.We would have lunch together, discuss students, plan concerts."She paused, her expression thoughtful."She was sharp as ever, even at eighty-one.Her mind was clear."
Cadie set down her teacup."You're certain?She didn't seem confused or forgetful?"
"Not at all."Carmine's voice was firm."Celia Ann was one of the most intelligent women I've ever known.She could discuss music theory, politics, literature.Whatever the topic, she engaged with it fully."She shook her head."If she seemed confused to others, that wasn't the Celia Ann I knew."
The observation contradicted what Olivia had implied about confusion being expected at her aunt's age.Either Carmine had seen a different side of Celia Ann, or something had been causing the confusion that Olivia attributed to natural decline.
A knock at the door interrupted them.Carmine rose to answer it, and a young woman in her early twenties entered.Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she carried a folder of sheet music.
"Cadie, this is Allison Williams," Carmine said."She knew your aunt also.Allison, this is Celia Ann's niece."
Allison said, "I'm so sorry for your loss.Mrs.Stratton was wonderful."
"Thank you."Cadie stood to shake her hand."You were a student at the conservatory?"
"I was, for several years."Allison's voice held genuine sadness."She stopped teaching about a year ago, when her health declined.We all missed her.She had a way of making you feel like you could accomplish anything."
The timeline matched what Cadie had been piecing together.A year ago, her aunt's decline had become noticeable enough that she could no longer teach.Six months ago, she had started mentioning concerns to people like Tom.And then the decline had accelerated.
Cadie thanked Allison and turned back to Carmine."I should let you get to your lesson.It's good to meet you."
Carmine walked her to the door."If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call.Your aunt was special to me.I want to help however I can."
*****
The drive back to the hotel gave Cadie time to process what she had learned.The music community had painted a picture of her aunt that contradicted Olivia's version.Celia Ann had been sharp, clear-minded, and engaged with the world around her.The confusion she experienced hadn't been a gradual decline.
In her hotel room, Cadie sat on the bed and pulled out her aunt's journal.She had skimmed portions of it before, but now she needed to read it thoroughly, noting every observation or concern her aunt had documented.
She opened to the first relevant entry and began to read.
The earliest entries were routine notes about the conservatory and daily life.But as Cadie moved forward in time, the tone shifted.Her aunt mentioned fatigue that seemed excessive, energy that didn't return no matter how much she rested.She wrote about dizziness that came without warning and hands that trembled when she tried to play.
