The house was hot. Hot in a strange way, you know? It wasn’t just the heater or the fireplace in the living room. It was the muffled laughter coming from the kitchen, Edel’s hurried steps, the noise of dishes being put on the table. It was the sound of life happening.

I sat at the table like someone who doesn’t know if they should really stay.

Sean was glued to me, his eyes red, his hands holding the cutlery as if he no longer knew how it worked. Tadhg leaned his head on John Kavanagh’s arm, who simply let him. I just let it. Without complaining.

I was moving the mashed potatoes on the plate when I heard her voice again.

“Do you like music?”

I looked up. She was on the other side of the table, looking at me with that kind of curious, kind look. The question caught me off guard. I didn’t know if I could remember what I liked.

“I liked it,” I replied, after a few seconds. My voice came out lower than I expected.

She nodded slowly, as if that was a meaningful answer. “There’s a piano in the living room. If you want, I can show you later.”

The proposal was in the air, light, as if she didn’t expect a yes. As if I were just saying: it’s here, if you need it.

And for some reason... that reached me.

At the end of the night, I couldn’t sleep

The bed was good. The sheets smelled of soap. But sleep didn’t come. Just the images. The fire. Shannon’s scream. The house disappearing. My mother’s body.

I got up without thinking. I went out in the dark corridor and walked, almost without making a sound. The light in the living room was on. {{user}} was there.

Sitting on the piano bench, her fingers hovering over the keys. I didn’t even play, I just... I was breathing near him. When he saw me, he wasn’t scared.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered.

She nodded, nodding her head. “Sit here with me.”

And I went. I sat on the side. The wood of the bench creaked a little. We were silent for a moment.

So, without saying anything, she touched. A note. A melody that was sad and beautiful and soft like her voice.

“This song... makes me cry sometimes,” she murmured.

I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes. And I let it happen.

That melody coming in for me.

The pain leaking.

The chest loosening, very slowly.

And it was at that moment - in that touch, in that piano, in that silence between us - that I knew.

Nothing I used before, no escape, no drugs... never made me feel like this.

It never made me feel alive.

She looked at me sideways. He smiled, little one. “We may not talk about today. If you want. Just play.”

“It’s good,” I said.

And I stayed.