I felt my chest tighten again, but I kept my voice gentle.
“They were wrong, sweetheart. They don’t know how to be nice sometimes. But that’s their problem, not yours.”
She hesitated, then nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
I sat down beside her, my arm around her shoulders, and she started to play again. This time, her fingers were a little more confident, the melody smoother. I watched her, my heart swelling with pride.
“See?” I said softly when she finished.
“You’re getting better every time.”
She gave me a small smile, and I felt a warmth spread through me. It wasn’t just about this moment. It was about everything I was trying to do, everything I was trying to be for her.
After Lily went to bed, I sat alone in the living room.
The silence was heavy, my mind still replaying the evening’s events.
I took a deep breath and stood up, walking over to the piano with a picture above it. I touched the keys gently, thinking about how this instrument, once a source of joy, had been tainted by their cruelty. But not anymore.
I wouldn’t let them take that from her. I wouldn’t let them take that from us.
The next morning, Lily and I sat at the piano again. She looked up at me, a question in her eyes.
I smiled and nodded.
“Let’s try it again, okay?” I said. “You and me.”
She nodded, her fingers finding the keys, and she started to play. The melody filled the room, a little stronger, a little more sure.
I watched her, my heart full, and as the music played, I knew we’d be okay.
We’d be just fine.
