He turned around, planning to head up there and brave the music long enough to assure himself she was happy and tell her he was going home. But there she was, at the bottom of the stairs, her hand resting on the railing. So beautiful. And here. She’d come to find him again. No one ever looked for him. They all knew he wanted to be alone. Except it wasn’t always that way. Sometimes he was alone out of habit. Sometimes it took effort to distract himself from the growing emptiness inside. “Are you leaving?” she asked in a small voice. “I was going to tell you.” He heard the words as if from a
...more
