Emily pulled up the lyrics on her phone and rested it on the music stand at the back of the keyboard. They didn’t have smartphones like this when she used to play, and it felt funny to see her phone there. It used to be charts that Rob hand-wrote for all of them, his music notes perfect little ovals, something James used to tease him about.

She started singing again, from the top, and lost the next hour to music, the way she used to. She only stopped when her phone rang, and she realized then that she felt a twinge of pain in her hand but not nearly as bad as it used to be—not as bad as she’d assumed it still would be. She saw that Priya was calling and picked up the phone.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Just wanted to see how you were doing,” Priya said. Emily could hear cars and wind behind Priya’s voice. She was probably headed somewhere, walking near the river in Brooklyn Heights, where she lived.

“I’m doing okay,” Emily said. “I rediscovered my old keyboard and have been playing all morning.” Somehow the music really did feel healing.

“Sounds like a nice morning,” Priya said. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “I used to perform, but I haven’t in a really long time. I’ve been thinking that maybe I should again. The music feels really good.”

“You should!” Priya said. “That would be so much fun. And I’d love to come hear you perform.”

“Yeah?” Emily asked. “You’d want to listen?”

Priya laughed. “Of course,” she said. “Why not? Were you thinking about playing somewhere special?”

Emily hadn’t really been thinking that far ahead, but the answer was easy.

“There are some open mics around the city. Whenever I’m ready, I’ll probably find one of those. An old boyfriend actually invited me to one tonight, but Ezra’s out of town and I didn’t want to go alone.” That wasn’t completely the reason she was staying away, she realized, as the words tumbled from her mouth. Even if Ezra were in town, she probably wouldn’t go. Actually, if Ezra were in town she a hundred percent wouldn’t go. Maybe she would’ve played her music for him. And they would’ve sung together. And talked everything through. And she wouldn’t feel quite so unbalanced. But knowing that didn’t change the fact that the more she thought about the open mic night, the more she wanted to go.

“I’ll go with you,” Priya said, automatically. “Neel can spend the night with Anika. Do some father-daughter bonding.”