Chapter One

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The air was heavy with the smell of rain, and Emily Rose's heart felt just as weighted down as the sky above her. She stood on the edge of the stage, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders in a waterfall of darkness, her fingers tracing the ebony keys of the grand piano before her. She didn't remember why she had volunteered to play for the youth group that evening; perhaps it was because she had always felt closer to God when she was lost in the music. Or perhaps it was because she had felt the need to be near something familiar, something safe, amidst the chaos that had become her life.

Ever since her best friend, Abigail, had taken her own life a few months ago, Emily had been struggling to find a place for herself. Abigail had always been the one who kept her grounded, the one who made her laugh when everything else seemed to be falling apart. And now that she was gone, Emily felt like a piece of herself had been ripped away, leaving her raw and exposed.

As she began to play, her fingers dancing across the keys with a familiar ease, Emily found herself thinking about the last time she had seen Abigail. They had been sitting in their favorite spot, beneath the old oak tree in the park, eating ice cream and talking about their dreams. Abigail had told her that she was tired of feeling trapped, like there was no way out of the life that had been mapped out for her as the preacher's daughter. Emily had promised her that things would get better, that they would find a way to make their own choices and live their own lives.

But then Abigail was gone, and Emily was left feeling more lost and trapped than ever before. Her parents didn't seem to understand how deeply their daughter's friend had affected her, how much her presence had anchored her to the world. They wanted her to go back to being the perfect preacher's kid, the one who always obeyed the rules and never questioned why. But Emily couldn't help but wonder if maybe Abigail had been onto something. Maybe there was more to life than what they had all been taught.

As she played, her fingers moving faster and faster, lost in the music, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom washing over her. It was as if the keys were her voice, speaking words of hope and despair, of love and loss, of the longing to break free from the constraints that had been holding her back. And in that moment, she realized that maybe she didn't have to choose between being her parents' daughter and being Abigail's friend. Maybe she could find a way to honor both parts of herself, to embrace the music that flowed through her veins and the rebellion that stirred in her heart.

After the service, as the other youth group members filed out of the church, Emily remained behind, sitting at the piano, lost in thought. She knew that things would never be the same again, that there would always be a void in her life where Abigail used to be. But she also knew that she couldn't give up on herself, on the possibility of finding happiness and purpose in a world that sometimes seemed so cruel and unfair.

She ran her fingers over the dusty keys and sighed quietly to herself. She used to love coming to youth group. Her and Abigail would sit in the chairs and laugh about anything and everything. Now that she was gone, it was hard for Emily to even walk through the doors. She knew that it was what she would've wanted her to do. She would sit at the piano and close her eyes to see if she could hear Abigail's laughter one more time. Her voice haunted the walls of the building here the girls used to run around when they were younger. The room used to be light and full of happiness, but now all that was there was the haunting feeling of loss.

Emily sighed, opening her eyes and looking around the empty church. The other youth group members had long since filed out, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her grief. She knew that she should follow them, that she should go home and face the reality of her life without Abigail. But something held her back, some indescribable sense of purpose that she couldn't quite put into words.
"What am I even doing here?' Emily said quietly to herself before closing the pianos lid.  It was almost dinner time which means she knew she would have to talk to her parents. It was spaghetti night, Abigail's favorite. Fridays were always the days she came over and had dinner with her and her parents. They keep it going in her memory.

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