Brody squeezed the back of my neck. “It’s whatever temperature you want it to be. And this is your dream outfit. No parkas allowed.”

I grumbled something not-so-nice under my breath but kept my eyes closed. “A gown. One that’s sort of gauzy so it flows in the breeze. But I’d still want my boots.”

Brody chuckled. “Now, hold that picture. What would you be playing?”

“Hallelujah.” My answer was instant, just tumbled right out. My eyes opened, meeting Brody’s dark and swirling ones.

“Then play.”

I slowly raised my violin and bow and started to play. I was a bit self-conscious at first, watching Brody move out of the corner of my eye. He seemed to be sketching on the canvas. Not a lot of lines but some. Soon, he opened a window near me and pulled on latex gloves and a mask, reaching for a can of spray paint. The rattle of the little ball inside the can, the whoosh of the spray being released, added a sort of percussion to the music from my violin.

I let my eyes fall closed, getting lost in the music. It was my favorite high, when the world ceased to exist around me, and the only thing I could feel was my fingers on the strings and the pull of the bow. I played Hallelujah over and over, giving myself over to the peaks and valleys, hearing a whisper of the words along with the notes.

I had no idea how long I played, how many rounds from start to finish. The burn in my shoulder finally brought me out of my haze, a hot zing of pain that drove away my high. My playing faltered, and I had to lower the violin. I winced at the movement.

Brody was in front of me in a flash. “What’s wrong? Your shoulder?”

His hand reached out, gently caressing the skin through my long-sleeved t-shirt before I could stop him. I knew the second he felt that something was off. Noted the twisted and raised skin. He couldn’t have gone for the shoulder that was unmarred, he had to know it was this one that felt as if hot lava had been poured into the joint.

Slowly, as if giving me a chance to stop him, he tugged my shirt to the side. The V-neck collar allowed him to reveal my shoulder. He sucked in a sharp breath as he took in my skin. I couldn’t look at his face or my flesh. I knew what I’d see in both. Disgust and pity. Skin that would never be normal again.

Rough hands cupped my face, forcing my gaze to Brody’s. “I’m so sorry.”

I tried to shrug, but the pain was too strong. “It was a long time ago.”

His thumbs traced paths across my cheeks. “But you still carry it with you.”