I picked up the music box last. “One question.” I stood, looking down at Jameson, part of me wishing that I was just a little less competitive and little bit more easily distracted. “What’s the song?” I turned the crank—slowly, gingerly—to those same four notes. “Excellent question, Persephone.” Jameson popped an entire handful of pomegranate seeds into his mouth. “As it happens, that particular John Lennon song is called ‘Do You Want to Know a Secret?’”
