Chapter 10 - The Song of the Glass
The evening sun set behind the Chicago skyline, casting a long, golden glow through the high, arched windows of the Kincaid library.
Claire sat at the grand piano in the corner of the room, her fingers moving gently over the keys. She was playing a soft, simple lullaby—the song Miranda’s music box used to play.
Noah sat beside her on the bench, his small fingers pressing the high notes in perfect, rhythmic harmony with hers. He was focused, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration, his face bright in the warm firelight.
Dominic stood near the hearth, a glass of wine in his hand, watching them.
The room was filled with the music, the crackle of the wood fire, and the soft, steady breathing of the puppy sleeping on the rug.
When the song finished, Noah let out a happy sigh and leaned his head against Claire’s arm.
"That was perfect, Noah," Claire said, brushing a dark curl from his forehead.
"It’s Mommy’s song," Noah said softly. "But now it’s our song too."
"Yes," Dominic said, walking over to the piano. He set his glass down and knelt beside the bench, his large hands wrapping around both of theirs. "It’s our song now."
May you like
He looked at Claire, and then at his son, his face filled with a peace that went deeper than any courtroom verdict or any empire’s key.
The storm had gone, the monsters had been buried, and the silent boy had finally found his voice—not to cry, but to sing the song of the family they had built together from the ruins of the dark.
