Page 102 of Total Exposure

How she might take the gift I’ll give her, but never forget why I gave it.

“I like it,” I say, referring to the couch. Because I do. It’s not something my mother would’ve liked either, and it hurts a little to think that. Because it means we’re different. That I was always different.

“Get me the violin,” Evangeline says, standing right in the place I put her in the middle of the room.

“OK,” I say, prying her fingers from my arm before walking over to get it. When I pick it up I’m reminded of how light this instrument actually is. Mostly hollow, mostly air, nothing but thin wood and thinner strings. I take the bow and a little container of resin Evangeline will surely want, and bring it all over to the couch.

“Good,” she says. “Now sit.”

It’s not an order. Not a command. Not a request, either. It’s just… what she wants.

So I sit, because I want to give her what she wants tonight. And she sits on my knee, perched off to the side a little with her back straight, and her legs closed, and her hands reaching out.

I place the violin in them and it’s like… she inflates. Immediately. Her chin lifts to accommodate the instrument, her shoulders square as one set of fingers find the strings and the other set holds the bow. She sucks in a breath, like she’s about to play a flute instead of a violin.

“Now listen,” she whispers. “Don’t miss the gift I’m giving you.”

When that bow touches those strings the room is immediately full. The tone starts out deep as she begins some once-well-rehearsed Evangeline Rolaine version of a scale. Her fingers fly, picking up and coming down on just the right string, as her bow slices through the air in just the right way. And the heavens open up inside this almost-empty room as she proclaims that in this singular, elegant way, she owns the entire fuckin’ world.

She is poetry incarnate.

The beauty she creates makes me want to die from joy. The notes reverberate off the wood-paneled walls. The music takes over my mind, and my body submits to her spell, and there is no way anyone who hears her music could ever miss the fact that this girl, frightened as she was, lonely as she was, sad that she was, is nothing but a genius.

And with that realization I understand… she no longer needs me.

Chapter Forty-One - Evangeline

I feel his sigh the moment the music starts. I feel him give in. His whole body relaxes even as mine tenses up and it’s an analogy, really. How two people can be in the same room, experiencing the same thing, and discover two very different feelings lurking inside them.

I am nothing but power when I play. I am who I am. Completely whole. Thoroughly complete. Absolutely, conclusively filled up.

All the years between then and now melt away. None of them matter anymore.

There is no fear of watchful eyes. There is no sadness of dreams never realized. There is no remorse, or regrets, or shame, or guilt.

There is only us. Here. Now. Together.

Me, and my music.

I stop that thought as soon as I have it.

Because that was my problem in the first place. The possession the music holds over me. The enchantment I have with myself.

I am singular when I play. A small girl who rules the entire world. I am nothing but one and I don’t want to be one anymore, I want to be two.

He did that for me.

He gave me back my life.

He made me see that I am not alone, I am not the center of the universe, I am not the culmination of millions of lives, lived over thousands of years.

I am just one soul in a sea of souls, all looking for their purpose.

And it’s not fair that I was born with mine. It’s not fair.

I know that. Have always known it. But I didn’t care.

And I was used, and I was cheated, and I was nothing but my parents’ golden opportunity.