Hannah opened the box and gasped.
Inside were two gold earrings shaped like piano keys, each ending in a tiny star. They were completely unique. Her father had sketched the design countless times before sending it to a jeweler.
“They’re beautiful,” our daughter whispered. She looked up at me, her eyes shining. “I’ll never take them off, Mom.”
I brushed her bangs aside and kissed the top of her head.
“You don’t have to. They’re yours forever.”
That spring felt untouchable.
Hannah practiced piano every afternoon, filling the house with awkward scales that slowly became real songs. Rick sat beside her on the bench, tapping the rhythm against her knee.