In the Brooklyn safehouse, the air was thick with tension. Marcus Thorne sat at the small upright piano, watching the woman he called Elena. He needed to know how deep the amnesia went. He needed to know if Victoria Vance was still in there.
“Listen to this,” Marcus said softly.
He played the opening bars of a lullaby–not just any song, but the melody Victoria had hummed to Leo during the storm when he was born.
Elena, who had been staring out the window, turned. Her eyes glazed over, losing their focus. She walked toward the piano as if pulled by a wire. She sat next to him and began to hum. The sound was perfect, guttural, and filled with a mother’s instinctual love.
Then, she stopped.
She slammed her hands over her ears, her breath hitching. “Stop it,” she whispered.
“Elena?” Marcus reached for her.
“It makes me feel… hollow,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It makes me feel like I lost something important, but I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to sing anymore, Marcus. It hurts too much.”
Marcus pulled his hand back, guilt washing over him. He was hiding her to save her, but the music was proving that her soul was screaming for the life she had forgotten.