I left the room and started back toward the stairs but stopped when I heard music coming from somewhere at the far end of the hallway. The haunting melody called to me, and I found myself walking toward it until I stopped in front of a half-open door with soft light spilling into the hallway. I stood there for several minutes listening to the music before I quietly entered the room to find a man sitting at a grand piano, his long fingers moving deftly over the keys. His back was to the door, but I recognized Desmund immediately. I stood in the doorway as still as a mouse for fear of disturbing him and causing him to stop playing. As moody and reclusive as he was, he might not like an audience, but I couldn’t tear myself away from the achingly beautiful music.
The piece came to an end and
