5
NIALL RESTED HIS hands reverently on the piano keyboard, glided them over a few keys, and then paused to pick up a pencil. He changed a line on the notes and lyrics he’d scribbled down. Satisfied, he started again, spreading his long, agile fingers over the keys, singing to himself as he did.
“Hmm, I love that song, must be new,” Kaitlin said, sliding onto the piano bench beside him. “I haven’t heard you play in forever.” She wore a tank top and short white shorts, which showed off long legs tanned from the California sun. Clutching a cup of coffee in her hands, she bobbed her head, keeping rhythm with his tune.
“It’s been a long time. Guess I felt inspired.” He hadn’t touched this piano in three years, not since Laila died. But today, something in him had shifted. Maybe it was becaus
