IV. TREMOLO
He watched her from the shadows. She'd managed to find more keys during their last stops dirtside, making her little keyboard a full concert grand. It was too long to fit in the bridge now so she sat in the hold, keyboard balanced across two crates and played sonatas and concertos, minuets and lullabies. She seemed happy enough, but every night she would end with the same song that always sounded like it was missing something.
One day, he realized what it was. His fingers twitched with the memory of the missing part, took half a step before stopping himself.