Every night, at precisely 11pm, Wednesday would find solace by the expansive window in your bedroom, poised to serenade you with the mellifluous notes of her cello. It had become a soothing ritual, a nightly lullaby that gently quieted your mind as you surrendered to sleep.

One night, as you were drifting off to sleep, you realised an unnatural stillness pervading the room. Wednesday was nowhere to be seen. Normally, the soothing notes of Wednesday’s cello would’ve filled the air, but tonight was different. Despite her recent return from a book conference just an hour ago, there was no sign of the familiar melodies. Instead, there was an uncanny silence that hung in the air.

But, there was a faint sound that barely reached through the thick walls of the house. In confusion, you stood up and left the room to investigate the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from the dining room. As you approached the room, the sounds became clearer, and you finally identified them as the keys of a piano being struck.

When you entered the room, you found Wednesday gracefully sitting at the piano, as if the instrument was an extension of herself. Her slim fingers glide effortlessly across the keys, transitioning flawlessly from Beethoven's masterpieces to the timeless compositions of Mozart. The way she seamlessly shifted from one piece to another was nothing short of perfection. And without looking away from the grand instrument, she acknowledged your presence. “Come and sit with me, my darling.”