“You know,” she says as I inspect the back of a Shirley Bassey album. “I think my true appreciation of music came from you.” The record almost slips from my fingers. “I…What?” Brenna leans a hip against the display stand. “I’m serious. You’re so passionate about music. The way you’d talk about it, the endless songs you’d have us listen to, the history of it all…” She shakes her head, ponytail swaying, a fond look on her face. “It made me hear it, feel it, in a whole new way. A better way.” All these years, I never knew she was truly listening. I never knew she liked what I said. Amber eyes
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