She dressed and headed out into the warm late-morning sunlight.
The sky above was bright blue and the grass next to the path was a cheery green as she meandered down the tree-lined paths of the National Mall, the buildings of the Smithsonian on both sides of her. Her heart danced in her chest and she smiled. A beautiful path to walk, and endless possibilities of how she could spend her day.
Well, perhaps not endless, but there were many choices of what to do, and all the choices were hers to make.
A while later she found herself staring up at the angular, white majestic building known as the Kennedy Center. Once upon a time, it had been a dream to perform there, and she had been well on her way. Before...
She shook her head. A dead dream.
That was okay.
Most of the time.
She wandered around the building, looking up at the tall columns and glass windows and doors. A peace settled around her. Ever since she’d seen and heard the man with the violin, her feelings about her past had changed from anger and dread to nostalgia. Perhaps that’s why she’d ended up here.
She bought a sandwich and iced tea from the snack bar and wandered around the back to find a quiet bench in the shade with a view of the Potomac River.
As she was finishing up her drink, music reached her ears. Familiar, and yet it didn’t quite sound right.
She glanced down the building. A door was propped open and she stood and made her way toward it. She drew nearer and the music grew louder, but still didn’t sound quite right. The melody hinted at Dvorák’s “New World Symphony,” but something was off. The instrumentation was wrong.
Wrong might have been too harsh a word. But it wasn’t familiar, that was certain.
She closed her eyes to find some semblance in the sound. In the music. Parts stood out to her she’d never noticed before as the melody faded into the background.
She drew her brows together, trying to understand why someone would attempt to change such a wonderful piece of music, and yet, somehow, it worked. She was no longer a passive listener. She had to concentrate to hear the beloved melody she was so familiar with. It drew her in and held her captive, like a silken ribbon around her body.
A door slammed and someone cursed loudly. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped as the man from the metro station stormed out of the doorway and stalked toward the edge of the balcony, growling at the river.
“For fuck’s sake, he’s fucking insane,” the man growled, shaking his precious violin like a madman. “What the hell is he thinking?” He spun around and froze when he saw her.
They stared at each other for an eternity and she found herself lost in his angry dark eyes that softened into surprise as he continued to stare. His eyebrows raised and his mouth opened. “You?”
She blinked and backed away, shaking her head. She turned to hurry away but the tone of his voice made her freeze.
“Wait! Please!”
Longing? Urgency? No, that couldn’t be right. But something made her stop and turn back to him.
He walked toward her, looking at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she was there. She gave a nervous wave and a half smile.
His face broke out into a grin. “Emily.”
“You remember my name?”
“I— Yes, I do.” He stared for another long moment. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “I went for a walk and ended up here.”
“Do you often end up at the back of famous buildings when you walk?”
“Is this such a strange place to end up?”
He looked up at the towering marble building. “People usually end up at the front of the building, not the back.”
Emily motioned toward the edge of the balcony. “It has a wonderful view of the river from up here.”
The man glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”