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I listened to her sing with the violin I’d sold my Camaro to buy for her. Had I once thought that a sacrifice? Damn, I’d give it again. I’d give more. Everything. Every breath. Every beat of my heart was for her.
And she gave everything to us, her enraptured audience. I could feel it—the sense of awe around me that said we were experiencing the beginning of something extraordinary.
When it ended, I got up from my seat with the vague idea to make my way down to her, but when I rose, the audience rose too. A thunderous ovation filled the hall. I laid my hand over my chest, feeling it reverberate in my heart.
Soak it in, baby. This is all for you.
I had to let her have the moment. If she were angry or upset with me, my sudden appearance would only ruin it. I made my way up and out, to get some air and regroup. I would go back in once the crowd had gone and find her.
And pray she wants to be found.
The Mozarteum was small but elegant, with dozens of chandeliers hanging from gilded ceilings. A massive pipe organ made up the rear wall and we took our places before it. Or, at least my fellow musicians did. I was now to wait off stage until our conductor, Isaak Steckert, introduced me to the audience. I stared at the playbill with my name on it and tears threatened again.
I’ll have to send this to my parents. And Melanie. They’ll be so proud.
The concert hall filled up with semi-formally dressed patrons. I peeked from behind the curtain to inspect the faces in the audience as I had every night. I looked for the tall handsome man who wore sunglasses indoors and who carried a white cane to find his seat, but he was never there. And he wasn’t there that night either.
The house lights dimmed, stragglers took their seats, and then Herr Steckert took the podium to great applause. Sabina appeared behind me.
“They don’t know me,” I whispered.
She put her hands on my shoulders. “Pain. Hope. Fire. Love. You play with these tonight, Charlotte Conroy, and they will remember you forever.”
Herr Steckert gestured to me, and I strode onto the stage to polite, reserved applause. Isaak kissed my cheek and whispered, “Break your leg.”
I stifled a laugh and felt a bit better. I took my place, standing before the strings, just as that violinist I had seen on TV when I was a child had done. I was fulfilling my dream, and no one I loved was there to see it.
I decided, as the first strains began behind and around me, that I’d play for all of them, no matter where they were in the world or if they’d left it. I’d let my love for everyone in my life and everyone I’d lost fill me until I had no choice but to channel it from my violin.
I don’t recall any one individual moment. It was all a fantastic dream, an out-of-body experience that I felt as pure emotion. I played Mozart’s music in the city in which he was born with an instrument that itself carried time and history in its grain.
And when it was over, the applause was not reserved or polite but thunderous and came after a short silence in which I could almost hear every audience member catch their breath.
I lowered my violin and let the sound wash over me, saw the beaming faces in the audience smile up at me, and I was astounded and humbled to have created this reaction.
An usher approached with an armful of red roses. He reached up to hand them to me, and the crowd exploded again. I turned to Sabina, thinking they must be from her, or Isaak, or even the rest of the string section. But the usher pointed toward the audience and then I knew.
He’s here.
The applause was still going as I scanned the crowd feverishly, searching for the one face I wanted to see more than any other… And then my heart dropped to my knees, and a gasp escaped me.
Noah Lake stood toward the very back of the house, his white cane in one hand, his other laid over his heart as if it pained him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and even from the distance between us, I could see the small, aching smile that graced his lips.
And then he turned and walked, alone, up the aisle and out of the hall.
“Noah!” I cried. “Noah!” But the applause was only just now starting to die down. I had my hands full. I put the roses on the floor and handed my Cuypers to a surprised Isaak.
“Come here, come here, come here,” I said, waving frantically at the usher in a distinctly inelegant show of arm flapping. The usher helped me down from the stage and I gathered my dress up and tore through the hall, past the applauding crowd.
I reached the near-empty lobby and swept my gaze all around. “Noah!”
No sign.
I raced outside, to a dark and chilly night. The fortress on the hill loomed above the city. I scanned the streets in both directions, searching the faces of the pedestrians strolling under the lamps.
“Noah!”
“Hey, babe.”
