Capturing Them

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three
Sang

Raven pulls the car to a stop outside of my house and cuts the engine. My gaze goes to the house, seeing the lights on in father's rooms and the family room, but none upstairs. "Which room is yours?" Corey asks.

I point to it. "The one above the porch. I'm not sure how Nathan and Victor got up there."

"Don't worry, Little Bird. We'll figure it out," Raven says. "Choo, we'll go park the car at Nathan's. Be there in a minute."

"Choo?" I repeat.

"He means 'shoo'," Corey says while shaking his head. "He's still learning."

"Alright." I pick up the camera I unwrapped once we got in the car. It's exactly like the one Dad bought me that morning. I zip my jacket up and wrap the strap over my neck before getting out. "See you in a minute."

I don't wait for a reply. Instead, I just close the door and make my way up to the front door. As my foot hits the first step leading up to the porch, the door swings open and Dad comes into sight. I look over my shoulder just as the car starts up and drives off. Looking back to my Dad, I continue up the stairs.

"Where have you been?" He asks, letting me into the house. He closes the door after me, and I kick of my shoes. I don't answer him, although I know I should, if not with my voice then at least a written note. "Sang?"

He doesn't sound angry, just unsure and nervous. Scared even. It's surprising.

"You talked to me earlier; for the first time in ten years," he whispers. "Why aren't you talking now?"

I stop just outside the family room. The light inside catches my eye, and I turn my head, looking in. A silent gasp escapes me when I see that a few photos have been put up on the wall—one of the three of us: Me, Dad, and Mom.

"I've been busy, and decided to start unpacking those boxes," he explains. I enter the room, my eyes locked on the photo. I was very young, so no matter how hard I try, I can't bring up the memory of it being taken.

I catch something black from the corner of my and turn, a gasp escaping my lips. This piano I'd recognise anywhere. It's a baby grand piano, the slick shiny look on it shows my reflection. I haven't seen it in years, yet it's so familiar. "Where did you get this?"

At the sound of my voice, which was barely above a whisper, Dad sucks in a sharp breath. He comes to stand at my side, and I can't help but look up at him. "I kept it in storage when we first moved out of the big house. I got a phone call from where it was being stored; they were closing down the facility. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it, so I had it delivered here. Arrived this afternoon."

I take another look around the family room. Most of Mom's things have been unpacked into places I just knew she would have put there herself. My eyes go back to the piano, and I walk towards it, my fingers gliding lightly over the keys. They don't make a sound due to my soft touch, but the sudden urge to play almost knocks me over.

"Dad," I whisper, looking up at him. His eyes, so sad, stare back at me, but the smile on his lips tells me he's happy. I clear my throat before saying, "We'll be okay."

His eyes close, and I watch as a tear leaks from his eyes. "Yeah, darling. We'll be okay." Opening his eyes, he gives me a smile. "I hope one day I'll hear you play again; not just the piano, but the violin too." He turns to leave but pauses to say, "And sing. You had, and still have a beautiful voice."

I watch him leave, and for the first time since my Mom died, my heart feels lighter. Baby steps. I eye the piano keys once more before pressing my finger down on one. I close my eyes as the light sound vibrates through me, and before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm pressing another key. I drop my hand away and raise it to my mouth; the smile on my face is something else.