The Maid’s Daughter Asked To Play One Song, Then Silenced The Whole Penthouse

fingers moved faster now.

The middle of the piece rose with a quiet storm.

Not angry in a messy way.

Angry in a clean way.

The kind of anger that comes from watching someone you love be treated as less than human and deciding, in your small heart, that you will not accept it.

The notes climbed.

Then fell.

Then trembled.

Then found strength again.

Mr. Whitmore continue reading …