Chapter 20 - The First Song Back
Nora's favorite place was a small public garden overlooking the sound. She took Lily there every spring because the old stone wall held warmth long after the air turned cold. Ethan had avoided it since the accident. The next morning he drove us there with a thermos of cocoa and a bag of sandwiches.
Lily ran ahead, then stopped beside a bench painted blue. "Mom said this bench was for thinking," she announced.
"Then we should give it some work to do," Ethan said.
We sat together without trying to fill the silence. Below us, gulls fought over a piece of bread. Lily laughed at their terrible manners. Ethan smiled, and this time his smile wasn't something he had forced for her sake.
The months that followed were not a straight line. Lily still had hard mornings, medical checkups, and therapy. She returned to school gradually, starting with short days. On the days she couldn't speak, her teacher offered writing, drawing, or a nod. Nobody treated quiet as failure.
The foundation recovered part of the diverted funds and continued its work under stronger oversight. Graham eventually admitted to false billing and agreed to restitution in a separate case. Vivienne was no longer part of Lily's life. Ethan didn't try to erase photographs or pretend he'd never loved the wrong person; he learned to recognize the warning signs he had refused to see.
My classes continued. On weekends I still helped Rosa make dinner and teased Ethan about his terrible knife skills. Lily knew my schedule because we wrote it together each Sunday. She crossed off the days until my return, not because she feared I'd vanish, but because she liked being the one to plan dessert.
At the end of the school year, Lily joined a small music presentation. She didn't sing every line. Halfway through, her voice faded, and she simply listened while the other children carried the melody. Then she found the next verse and stepped back in.
Afterward she ran into Ethan's arms. "I stopped for a minute," she said.
"I saw. And you started again."
At home, Lily set three cups on the kitchen table and asked Rosa for water. No one reached into a handbag. No one told her what she had to drink.
She took a sip, looked at me, and grinned.
"Grace, do you want to hear the song again?"
May you like
"Every single verse," I told her.
And she sang, not because someone had finally given her permission, but because she was ready to let us hear her.
