With a smile I leaned close, nestling my face into the steady frame of his shoulder. He tipped my chin up with one finger, and after allowing himself a moment to gaze at me, to delight in the freedom to be so near, he kissed me. Kissed me with as much longing and warmth as he had in the dark tunnel. Chopin and Bach mingled in a breathless new piece, a duet sweetly carried out with a magnificent depth I could feel in my soul.

I opened my eyes and looked at him, right into that countenance I had easily grown to love, and he spoke. “I’m a broken man, Vivienne. Cracks and fissures at every angle.”

My smile widened. “Then we shall be the perfect fit.” I kissed him again to seal my words and delighted in the taste. The very authenticity of his lips on mine, the stubble brushing my chin and nose. When at last we pulled apart, he let his fingers trail over my cheek, my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear where a flower had once perched that had drawn his attention.

“So you are free now.” It was a statement from him rather than a question. The lunacy commission had swept through Hurstwell and reevaluated each patient at length—I was one of the fortunate ones released quickly. “What will you do now?”

“Rescue women. Give a voice to the silent. In some form or other.”

“Nothing to do with Hurstwell, I imagine.”

“On the contrary, I shall be here often.” I curled my hands around the edges of the stool. “Harford has been given temporary reign over the old place to run his clinical trials and bring whatever healing he can to the patients who remain. I have promised to help—for now, at least. There’s another musician who will take charge, actually.”

“Indeed?” His face brightened. He looked pleased at all of this. His eyes continued searching my face. “Hurstwell has not managed to dim you. Not at all. And I’m glad of it. No, in fact I think you have lit up Hurstwell instead. It seems quite different—so full of music.”

I closed my eyes and listened to the faint sounds of Rose masterfully playing a Schubert piece. Oh, how it lit the air with beauty. Changed everything. No matter what you do to them, there’s only so much you can lock up about a light like Rose. A musician like me.

And nothing you can lock up about God.

Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the LORD is risen upon thee.

Isaiah 60:1

Author’s Note