Elara stood frozen in front of the piano, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The Middle C Julian had played was still echoing in her memory.
She closed her eyes. She imagined Leo's laugh, the warmth of his hand, and the terrifying screech of metal on the night she lost him. She felt the grief, cold and sharp, but she also felt the warmth of the sun from her walk with Julian, the smell of pine needles, and the applause in the bakery.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. She didn't try to push the air out from her chest; she tried to pull the sound up from her stomach.
She opened her mouth slightly.
At first, there was only the familiar, harsh rush of empty air. A dry, scraping sound. Tears instantly pricked her eyes. *It's broken,* her mind screamed. *You're broken.*
But she didn't stop. She focused on the memory of the C-major chord. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
And then, beneath the rush of air, there was a tiny flutter.
It was faint, raspy, and cracked down the middle. It sounded like a rusty gate swinging on a broken hinge. But it had pitch. It had tone.
*Mmm-hmm.*
It lasted for less than a second before her voice cracked and gave out completely, dissolving into a ragged cough. Elara stumbled back, bringing a hand to her mouth, her eyes flying open.
She was crying now, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. But they weren't tears of agony.
Julian took a step forward. He reached out, his hand gently grasping her shoulder, steadying her trembling frame. His hazel eyes were shining with an emotion she hadn't seen before.
"I heard it," he whispered, his voice thick with awe. "I heard you, Elara."
It was a terrible, ugly, broken sound. But to Elara, it was the most beautiful music she had made in half a year. The ice hadn't just cracked; it had finally started to melt.