LENAThe recording studio sat above a music shop downtown. Small and soundproofed, nothing like the grand halls I'd imagined as a kid."You'll be fine." Landon squeezed my hand once before letting go. "Same chair rules apply. I'll be right here."He settled into the corner, out of the engineer's sightline. Close enough that I could see him if I needed to. The engineer, a quiet woman named Priti, adjusted the microphones without rushing me. She gave me time to tune, to breathe, to remember why any of this mattered."Whenever you're ready." Priti's voice came through the small speaker, calm and unbothered by my nerves.I closed my eyes for a moment. I thought about my grandfather's kitchen, the window always cracked open, his hand guiding mine through my first scale. I thought about the empty parking garage, the rain. An hour and twenty minutes of someone listening without ever once announcing himself.I opened my eyes and started playing.October Route came out steadier than it had in
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