Inside the hotel lobby, everything gleamed.
Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. Soft conversations.
And at the center, a grand piano.
The pianist, a well-dressed man in his forties, stopped mid-piece as Adrian approached—with the boy following close behind.
Guests began to notice.
Whispers spread.
“What’s going on?”
“Who’s that kid?”
Adrian gestured toward the piano.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Evan froze for a moment.
Up close, the instrument looked… untouchable.
Like it didn’t belong in the same world as him.
But then he stepped forward.
He climbed onto the bench, his legs too short to reach the floor.
He placed his hands in his lap.
Closed his eyes.
Took one slow breath.
And then—
He played.

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