Postlude: Chapter 4

Amaranthe

She listens to Dimitri’s gentle snores and wriggled herself out of his arms. It was 4 am and Amaranthe had woken up with a deathly desire to play her cello. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she glances back at her husband before slipping her nightgown on and grasping her cane.

The last and only time she played her cello, her fingers could barely change notes over the fingerboard. They were extremely stiff, and they throbbed. She shoved the instrument down in frustration and had to buy a new one. The last part she did not tell Dimitri about.

She saunters towards the music room Dimitri had set up for her and looked around. Her instrument sat beckoning to her. With a sigh, she strides towards the stool and sits down, grabbing her bow and position the cello between her legs. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and played

The sound that came from the instrument made her heart twinge. Even with the bio-kineticist, her fingers were usele