She should’ve figured it out earlier. So many times he’d stared off into space and had never made direct eye contact with her. She just hadn’t put two and two together. Now she felt ashamed for being so nonchalant about meeting him. About talking to him. About how she’d treated him. That was what her brain was throwing at her faster than she could process. Just when she thought the situation about displacing a family couldn’t get worse, it did.

Now she was throwing a blind man out of his house? She felt sick.

Maria settled back into her chair, then turned to Quinn. “Well, you ready to hear Liam make some music?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Quinn whispered.

“Tell you what? That he plays? Just about everybody and their cousin plays around here. Liam just happens to be better at it than most.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me your father is blind?” Quinn asked.

Maria turned to look at her, though in the dimness it was hard to distinguish her expression. “I didn’t think I needed to. Couldn’t you determine that on your own?”

“No,” Quinn said. But what she thought was of course she couldn’t, because she was self-centered and focused only on getting what she wanted. She was a terrible human being, and every day she was there she was being reminded of it.

Maria put a hand out and squeezed her knee. It felt awkward, someone touching her with affection. “I think if I told Kupuna what you just said, it would just make his day. He never wants to be treated differently because of his loss of sight. And once he finds out he got past you for quite a while, you just might be his new favorite person.”

Quinn didn’t reply. Before she could think too deeply on Maria’s words, Liam started to strum. Suddenly, his music lulled everyone into a quieter state. It was slow and sweet, and when he added his voice to it, it was pure magic. The soft sounds he was making were a direct contradiction to the raw, masculine figure that he cut. Quinn wondered who his significant other was, as it was a song clearly written out of love.

As the melody wafted through the night air, even the kids returned to the circle, perching on knees or finding another place to sit, drawn like moths to a flame. Quinn found herself falling into the moment, the tension she usually carried fading away until her body felt light and free.

“He had his heart broken once,” Maria said, seemingly reading her mind. “It was a long time ago. That’s how he is able to play so passionately.”

When he slipped into a more melancholy tune, Quinn realized Liam was a man who knew sadness. Maria was right. No one could sing like that unless they’d known sorrow.