Chapter 3

I helped Mom toward the hallway.

Nathan caught my wrist from behind.

"The song is three minutes. Stay until it's finished."

His fingers pressed hard against the bones in my wrist.

I turned.

"Let go."

"Grandma's been waiting for this song. Don't ruin it."

"My mother can't breathe."

"She was just discharged. It can't be that serious."

I pulled free and handed Mom her rescue inhaler.

Camille had already stopped playing.

She looked stricken.

"Is the dust on the piano bothering Mrs. Fairchild?

"I'm sorry. I should've thought of that."

She started to close the lid.

Grandma Ruth struck her cane against the floor.

"Why are you stopping?

"If someone doesn't want to listen, that person can leave. The rest of us shouldn't have to suffer."

Nathan lowered his voice.

"Elise, Grandma's old. Give her this one thing."

I looked at Mom's bent shoulders.

Suddenly, I did not want to argue anymore.

For years, I believed that if I explained clearly enough, Nathan would take my side.

Now I knew he had understood everything all along.

He simply chose, every time, to make me the one who gave in.

I pulled my hand free and took Mom to the bedroom.

The second the door closed, the piano started again.

Mom sat on the bed for a long time before her coughing eased.

I gave her the inhaler and turned on the air purifier.

She gripped the inhaler and whispered, "Don't fight with Nathan because of me.

"The piano is in the living room. I can stay in here and keep my distance."

I crouched to help with her shoes.

"Mom, this is your home too.

"Nothing Camille owns matters more than you being able to breathe."

The next morning, I called the moving company.

I told them to take the piano to Camille's condo.

The workers had barely wrapped it when Nathan came through the door.

"Who said you could move it?"

"I did."

I handed the movers a paper with Camille's address.

"Take it here. I'll pay."

Nathan snatched the paper and crushed it in his fist.

"Her place is airing out after construction. The piano can't go there."

"Then send it back to storage."

"The storage facility is humid. It'll be damaged."

"So the only acceptable place is the house where my asthmatic mother is staying?"

Nathan stood in front of the piano.

"Your mom can stay upstairs until the piano leaves."

"She has trouble with stairs. There's no bathroom up there."

"Then put her in a hotel."

I stared at him.

After a moment, Nathan seemed to hear himself.

His voice softened.

"Two weeks at most. I'll book the best hotel nearby and arrange someone to care for her."

"My mother paid for the renovations in this house.

"She doesn't have to leave her own home for Camille's piano."

The movers exchanged uncomfortable looks.

Nathan took out his phone and paid them double to leave.

I reached for the protective cover.

Nathan grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

My lower back struck the edge of a table.

Pain flashed through me.

Mom heard the noise and hurried out.

"Nathan, let Elise go."

She tried to pry his hand loose.

Then her breathing changed.

I immediately reached for her inhaler.

At that moment, Camille opened the door.

She saw the covered piano and rushed toward it.

"Don't move it. This instrument can't take another impact."

She put her hand over the lid and caught a fingertip on a loose metal edge.

Nathan released me instantly.

He grabbed her hand.

"You're bleeding."

"It's barely a scratch."

Camille said it was nothing, but tears were already falling.

Nathan pressed a tissue against the cut and guided her toward the door.

When he passed me, he stopped.

"I'm taking Camille to urgent care. Her hands matter. She plays piano."

The door closed.

Mom started coughing again.

Her breathing was becoming uneven.

I could not keep her in that dusty room.

I took her out immediately.

Half an hour later, Nathan texted me a hotel reservation.

Then another message appeared.

"You and your mom stay there tonight. Camille's upset, so I'm letting her stay at the house."