Nobody moved.

The man slowly turned toward his wife.

Her hand was still covering her mouth, but now her whole body was trembling.

“What is he talking about?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

The boy stood from the piano bench.

“That’s what she told me you’d say.”

The man looked back at him.

“Who was your mother?”

The boy reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a small ring hanging from a cord around his neck.

The family crest caught the chandelier light.

The man’s breath stopped.

His wife whispered,

“Take that off.”

The boy’s eyes hardened.

“My mother wore it until the day she died.”

The man stared at his wife.

“That ring belonged to our daughter.”

Tears appeared in the woman’s eyes.

“She ran away.”

The boy shook his head.

“No.”

His voice was quiet.

“She was sent away.”

The room went completely silent.

The man looked at the boy again.

At his eyes.

At the shape of his face.

At the melody only one child had ever known.

His lips trembled.

“What was your mother’s name?”

The boy answered.

And the man nearly collapsed.

It was his missing daughter’s name.

The boy looked down at the ring.

“She told me if I ever found this house, I should play her song first.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears.

“Why?”

The boy looked at the woman in white.

“Because she said the person who stole her life would recognize me before you did.”