I have said Aurora York was my only rival for Frankie’s heart. On that day, she vanquished me. Not a note of music was left inside him. His desperate love for her, with no release, went crashing into his inner walls like the waters of that flood, drowning me out, rendering him silent. He kept seeing her face, asking him to sing in the hospital. He kept seeing her as a little girl, asking him to play in a tree. He kept thinking about the old guitar he had left behind, and its one blue string, still unused. “What if you need to save a life?” she had asked. It was too painful to consider.
