I huffed a laugh, shaking my head. “Because it wasn’t important. I haven’t played in a while.”
“But you want to,” he pointed out, watching me. “That’s why you said music—because you miss it.”
I hesitated, fingers tightening around my cup. “Maybe.”
Marcus nodded, sipping his coffee—not about to let this go. “Well, I’ve always wanted to set up a music therapy program. So if you ever feel like playing again... I’d love to hear it.”
One day.
Maybe.
SIX
Marcus
I’d had a busy morning—anhour on a call with a significant donor, trying to sell them on funding musical therapy at Guardian Hall. If we could get a piano, maybe a dedicated space for music sessions, it could make a real difference. Music therapy had proven benefits—helping with PTSD, improving mental health, fostering connection—but that took money—money neither I, nor Alex, nor Guardian Hall had right now, given how many other things we were paying out for.
I laid out all the pros and cons to the donor, a guy with connections to the Windermere Foundation for Musical Enrichment in Chicago. He could open doors and help us secure grants, but he wasn’t convinced yet. I talked about how musiccould bring people together and how those who struggled to speak about their trauma could find an outlet in a melody. I emphasized that this wasn’tjustabout entertainment, but healing.
He listened, gave me a polite but noncommittal response, and promised to get back to me. It wasn’t an outright no, but it wasn’t the immediate yes I’d hoped for. Still, I’d planted the idea. Now, I had to hope it took root. I’d filed reports, filled out medical forms to support benefits for some of our guests, and taken my turn on kitchen duty. Now, I was on a quick break. I stepped out for coffee and wandered the halls, checking in on things, chatting with people, and finding my way to the top floor to check on the roof door, which now had extra alarms.
I reached for my second pass, which would take me down from the top floor, but it wasn’t attached to my lanyard. We’d juggled two security systems since this new door had been installed, waiting for the alarm techs to sync the new roof security with the primary system. And, of course, idiot that I was, I’d left the pass to the latest security door in my office. Because why wouldn’t I? It wasn’t the first time. I had a habit of setting things down mid-task, getting distracted, and realizing my mistake when it was too late. Now, with the door locked tight behindme and my pass out of reach, I was stuck like an absolute fool in the top-floor bedroom corridor.
There was only one way down, which meant walking past the guest apartments. Hopefully, no one would think I was up here for nefarious reasons, like checking on them or wanting to talk to them. This floor was their private space, and all the staff here respected it.
I didn’t mean to overhear Tyler talking to Jazz, but there was no avoiding it. They sat on the floor, backs against the wall outside Tyler’s room, their conversation hushed. I doubted they noticed when I stepped back the way I’d come, only to realize too late that I was now trapped in the corner with no way out—stuck behind the door I lacked the pass to open.
I opened the staff group chat.
Marcus: Stuck on the top floor, forgot my pass, help
Carl: Be with you in five
Carl: Idiot
I heard talking around the corner from me, and with hindsight, it was at that point I should have announced myself and made my presence known. But then, I realized it was Jazz and Tyler talking, and I heard Jazz say Alex’s name.
Given how close my best friend and Jazz weregetting… Well, if there was even the slightest chance I could nudge them back together, then maybe my ethics could take a backseat for a second.
Jazz’s voice was low and rough with emotion. “… Alex says it will be okay, and I want to trust him because, you know… he’s a good guy, and he hasn’t lied to me yet, right?”
“I don’t know him very well,” Tyler murmured.
“I do trust him, I think… I know my head is still messed up… I don’t know how I will handle seeing my daughter tomorrow. What if she hates me? What if…”
Tyler sighed—a sound I was familiar with. “It’s good that she’s visiting, right?”
I winced. This wasn’t about Jazz/Alex and them getting back together.
This was painful for Tyler when none of his family had visited since he arrived at Guardian Hall. Tyler had left letters for his parents and sister when he’d gone to the roof. None of us had read them, but maybe they were sorry, a thank you, or a plea for understanding.
His emergency contact was a colonel, a former army colleague, but the number we’d tried after the roof incident was no longer in service. We’d hoped there was someone he’d want to be here for him,but all too often, our guests here were alone. His parents didn’t hesitate to say they wouldn’t come unless Tyler asked and knew Tyler wouldn’t want to see them. They didn’t listen to Alex when he argued that Tyler didn’t know what he wanted.
We tried his sister’s number.
She left it on voicemail, and we told her we needed to talk to her, but there were only crickets.
Tyler was alone in the world.
