Lara didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t know if she wanted the song to be there as proof that she hadn’t—hadn’t what? Made it up? But a part of her didn’t want it to be there, either. That would mean a dead man was speaking through an album.

The familiar sound of warbled, heavy chords came through the speakers. Jason stared at the turntable, blinking.

Something stirred in Lara. She got up, placed the Fender on her desk, and walked over to the turntable. Jason moved away to let her at the controls. Touching the vinyl disk at the twelve o’clock position, Lara began to spin it counterclockwise. Before she even heard the first chord strum, she knew the song was there, beneath her fingers. Unwinding the record, spinning it, she found what she knew was the proper tempo. The melody flowed through her as if she were weaving it from the fabric of memory and history. She stopped, knowing what she had was not a full song, but a tasting of something, clipped from time.

She turned to find her father looking at her like he’d seen a ghost.

He stood and walked over to his collection of guitars that were hung on walls and scattered around displayed on stands. Leaning down, he carefully selected the oldest, most battered maple-neck Fender Sunburst in his collection. Pulling a cord from another guitar, he plugged the Fender into the small amp. Jason quickly tuned the battered Sunburst by ear, adjusting old strings that sounded to Lara like they hadn’t been played for thirty years.

“It should be played on this,” said Jason. He started on the first chord but shook his head, stopped, and started the first few chords again. Knowing the confidence that her father had when combining chords and notes for his songs and set, Lara could tell this song was one he hadn’t played in a very long time. His fingers fumbled chord changes, and his voice broke. Shivers ran up her arms and the back of her neck as Lara recognized it as the song she’d heard haunting the Tending album.

“I’m sorry,” she said after she’d finished.

“After all these years, I waited for a sign—anything from him.”

“Why now?”

“I’ll be damned if I have any idea.” He avoided her eyes. “And why you?” Jason walked over and put the Sunburst back on the wall.

Lara felt terrible. He’d been so animated fifteen minutes ago, excited about the show. And now he had that look, like he was seeing her for the first time. It unnerved her. She shouldn’t have said anything. This revealed something magical, and Audrey had always cautioned her to hide it. Now she understood. Her father looked at her like she was a stranger.

“I’m going to go,” he said, nodding toward the door and grabbing his keys.