They don’t talk about the papers.Or the envelope.Or what comes next.
Instead, Callum takes her hand and leads her down a narrow corridor and through a door to the music room.
Sunlight pours in through tall windows, illuminating the grand piano that dominates the space.Isla stops short, breath catching.
“I forgot how beautiful this room is,” she murmurs.
Callum watches her, something like pride flickering across his face.“Keir loved it.Said music needed space to breathe.”
“I want to play along with you,” he says softly.
She crosses to the piano, running her fingers lightly over the keys.The instrument feels alive beneath her touch, resonant and ready.
“What do you play in the mornings?”Callum asks.
“Whatever needs to come out,” she replies.
He disappears for a moment and returns with a guitar, well-worn, familiar.He settles into a chair near the piano, watching her with quiet anticipation.
“Show me,” he says.“You lead.”
Isla sits, a timid smile crossing her face.
She doesn’t think.She just plays.
The melody is simple at first, tentative, like a question asked softly.Then it grows, layering emotion without effort.Not grief this time.Not fury.
Hope.
Callum joins her after a few bars, his guitar threading through her music like it belongs there.They don’t discuss key or tempo.They don’t need to.
They listen.
They follow.Their music joins them in ways only their bodies could before.
The music swells and ebbs, a conversation without words.Isla laughs once when Callum shifts unexpectedly, catching her off guard with a playful riff.
“Show-off,” she accuses.
He grins.“You started it.”
They play for a long time, long enough that the world outside fades entirely.When they finally stop, the silence feels full rather than empty.
Isla leans back on the bench, breathless.“That was…”
“Right,” Callum finishes.
She nods.“Yes.”
They sit together, shoulder to shoulder, basking in the afterglow of sound.
For a moment, Isla lets herself imagine it, mornings like this.Music instead of conflict.Partnership instead of inheritance.
Then her mind drifts, unbidden, to Keir’s bedroom.
The single envelope resting on his bed.The one with her name on it.
Callum notices the shift immediately.
