Page 162 of Eternal Craving

“Look what Marcus bought me.” She raised the instrument triumphantly into the air.

“Remind me to thank him.” I couldn’t hide the sarcasm. “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to practice? Like, France.”

Sunaria stifled a laugh.

Rachel dropped the violin to her side. “You don’t like it?”

“Let’s get you an instructor.” I winked at Sunaria. “I’m sure we’ll find one across town.”

Sunaria strolled over to the window and moved the curtain aside. “It’s dark already, but it’s still so early.”

“It gets darker earlier in the winter,” Rachel said.

I joined Sunaria by the window. “So England does have its benefits.”

Outside was the usual hustle and bustle of Belgravia – carriages rolling by, children playing catch and annoying the street merchants. I turned my attention back to Rachel. There was something familiar about her instrument. I gestured for her to hand me the violin.

Clutching the neck, I tweaked the peg box, strumming the strings to check the pitch, and breathed in the woody fragrance. I admired the walnut form and ran my fingers along the delicate curves. Music vibrated through me. I rested my chin on the black rest and the fingers of my left hand positioned naturally on the fingerboard. With my right hand, I slid the bow.

The violin rejoiced, responding to my touch, a violinist’s interpretation as music flowed with the perfect sequence, moving past what I’d heard and straying from the familiar, articulating timbre and texture, composing notes, and conveying emotions, a cadence of extraordinary intimacy. Swaying now, I disappeared inside the melody and became the music.

Savoring the final note, I came back.

An eerie stillness descended on the room.

“Will you teach me to play like that?” Rachel eventually whispered.

Sunaria frowned. “I didn’t know you could play the violin.”

I held the instrument at arm’s length, trying to ascertain what had just happened. “I can’t.”

“Heplayed the violin, didn’t he?” Sunaria’s tone was edgy.

The bow slipped from my fingers.

An awful memory stirred of being shackled to the wall, deep within the dungeons of Blackfriars, below where we stood now, haunted by the music of this very instrument, awaiting my next torture, and full of fear that it would never end.

“Delacroix.” His name caught in my throat. I swung the violin and smashed it against the wall, sending splinters flying.

Rachel’s face fell and tears welled up in her eyes. I stared down at the scattered pieces. Sunaria looked over at me incredulously.

I cleared my throat and tried to reclaim some decorum. “I’ll, um, get you another one, Rachel. This one appears to have a flaw.”

Rachel gathered the walnut fragments and Sunaria assisted her. The tip of my shoe tapped the discarded bow and Sunaria pulled it out of my reach.

I felt dazed.

Marcus crashed through the door and stared at me wide-eyed. He gazed down at what had once been a violin.

“I’ll get her another one,” I said.

Marcus approached me. “I’ve found him.”

“What?”

“Jacob.” Marcus nodded. “I know where he is.”

We never know when the moment we've been hoping for will arrive, but when it does, it strangely leaves us bereft, unsure if it's real or just an imagined dream.