Kaelen's POV
I freeze the moment I hear her. The melody is familiar, too familiar, yet entirely impossible. My mind jerks back, unwilling, against a wall of memory I didn’t expect to touch tonight. Each note slices through me, raw and unfiltered, and for the first time in years, I hear the song exactly as it was the day I gave that ring—my “To My Luna” ring—to a girl whose face I thought I’d never forget. The girl I thought was Celestine. The girl who captured something in me I didn’t know how to name at twelve years old.
It can’t be. I shake my head, try to tell myself it’s just coincidence. Plenty of musicians could learn a song. Plenty could play it with precision and passion. But this—this is not precision alone. The way her fingers move, the way she bends the music, the subtle shift
