3-12 Calgary, Alberta

The night before the accident, I was sitting next to Edward when he suddenly stopped playing. He closed the piano, and put his hands to either side of him, pushing himself up off the bench about an inch and hanging there, like some sort of musical yogi.

“Edward?” I asked, when he was suspended there for over two minutes.

“Do you think I’m going to stay alone forever?” he mumbled.

I squeezed his arm and shook my head.

He didn’t answer for a long time.

“But you don’t see anyone.”

I shook my head again.

“I will,” I answered in a whisper. “I will see someone, Edward. Someday. I’m certain of it.”

He lowered himself back onto the bench, opened the piano, and started the slow, mournful strains of “Für Elise.”


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