Chapter 9 - THE REUNION
Two days later.
Seattle Memorial Hospital was bathed in the warm, bright sunlight of an autumn afternoon. The high-security private wing on the fourth floor was silent, save for the soft hum of medical monitors.
In room 412, Clara Vance sat propped up on plush pillows. Her fever had broken, her color had returned, and though she was still weak from years of neglect, her eyes shone with profound peace.
Beside her bed sat Julian Vance. He had been bathed, his long silver hair neatly trimmed, wearing a clean woolen sweater. His thin hands were resting on the bedsheet, held tightly by his mother, Eleanor, who hadn't let go of him for forty-eight hours.
Sitting on the edge of Clara’s bed was little Lily, wearing a bright yellow dress that Eleanor had bought for her, eating a cup of chocolate ice cream with a plastic spoon.
The door pushed open softly.
Arthur Pendelton walked in, carrying a large vase filled with fresh white lilies.
"Arthur!" Eleanor smiled warmly, tears of gratitude coming to her eyes as she stood up to hug the pianist. "Look at them. The doctors say Clara will make a full recovery in a few weeks."
Julian looked up at Arthur, a deep, eternal respect in his eyes. "Arthur... I don't know how a man ever repays someone for giving him his life back."
"You don't owe me anything, Julian," Arthur smiled, placing the flowers on the windowsill. "You owe your freedom to the bravest six-year-old singer I've ever had the honor of sharing a stage with."
Lily looked up, chocolate smeared across her upper lip, and giggled. "Mister Arthur played the piano very nice when I sang!"
"She’s right," Clara said softly, her voice filled with emotion as she looked at Arthur. "When I hid her under those floorboards two days ago, I was so afraid. I thought Marcus would kill me, and I thought Lily would starve in the woods. But I remembered my father’s lullaby. I told her to sing it... and she found you."
"She didn't just find me," Arthur said softly, leaning against the bed frame. "She found two thousand people who listened. The video of her singing on my stage was picked up by news networks nationwide. Julian's lullaby has been listened to by ten million people in forty-eight hours."
Julian blinked in shock. "Ten... ten million?"
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"Your music was never lost, Julian," Arthur said, pulling a leather binder from his briefcase and placing it on Julian’s lap. "This is a contract from the Seattle Symphony. They want to perform a full retrospective of your life's work this winter. And they want you to conduct the orchestra."
Julian looked down at the paper, his hands trembling as he touched the official symphony seal. For twelve years in that dark cellar, he had played on an out-of-tune piano, believing his voice had been erased from the world. Now, his music was going to fill the greatest hall in the city.
