Morning settled into the house without disruption.
The piano no longer drew attention simply by being there. It occupied the room the way a large piece of furniture should — present, accounted for, integrated. The light from the windows moved across its surface, catching along the edge and spreading over the keys.
Lily was already on the bench.
Her back was straighter than usual, her feet not quite touching the ground but held in place as if that detail didn't matter. Her hands hovered above the keys.
Leo stood beside her, tablet already lit.
Arianne approached from the side of the room. She had been working earlier, documents open across the table, but she had closed them once Lily took her position. Franz was near the window, then moved closer without interrupting.
"Hands," Arianne said.
Lily placed them where she thought they should go. Arianne stepped in, lifted her wrist a fraction, adjusted the spacing between her fingers, then released.
"Not flat. Curved."
