Brandon's fingers moved across the piano keys skillfully.
The music began slowly and heavily with sorrow. It was a composition born of pain, of mourning a loss that could never be undone, of grieving something stolen too soon, and of the burning vengeance that smoldered in its wake.
It was a story without words, a confession, and Brandon, through it all, played without pause.
The piece he played was Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 23 in F minor, Op. 57. Otherwise known as "Appassionata."
It was one of Beethoven's most turbulent and emotionally charged works, written during a time when he was already going deaf and struggling with the growing despair of his isolation.
And for Brandon, it wasn't just a simple performance for the masses gathered.
It was a eulogy.
A vow.
"...."
And a warning.
