Hello dear readers!

Here is the latest instalment of Kevin's adventure. I had first planned the events of Chapter 26 and 27 to be a part of one chapter, but as I wrote them, I felt it would be preferable to have two distinct chapters.

As usual, I hope you'll enjoy!

Chapter 27

To my disappointment, we didn't leave right after Harry's "talk" with our landlord. We first needed to find a new house, one that would fit our unique family lifestyle. Harry and Marvin wouldn't let some unscrupulous landlord fool them twice. Surprisingly, it was Marvin who found it and not Harry. He came home one afternoon, bursting with pride. He didn't wait so Harry and him could discuss this in private and trumpeted the moment he stepped in the house:

"Pack your bags, cause I found our new place!"

Harry, who was making me read some news article out loud, looked up in interest.

"Really? Where is it?

– Does that mean we can leave? Right now?" I added eagerly.

"Sure does, kid!" Marvin replied, handing me my daily present, a bag of crackers dipped in chocolate.

I ripped the bag open, glad that Harry was too distracted by this news to remind me not to spoil my dinner.

"So where's is this house anyway?

– My cousin Alan, you remember Alan? Works as an estate manager for rich old folks." Marvin proceeded to explain, digging in the bag of cookies himself.

"Sure… I didn't know Alan was in Chattanooga." frowned Harry. "Why didn't you say your cousin lived around here?"

Marvin didn't comment and kept talking, faster this time.

"He's got this client, some old lady. She's renting her house to pay for her retirement home and she's looking for reliable tenants. Alan said he'd give us good recommendations, but we have to move fast.

– Great, let's got check it out. Where is it?

– The house's perfect. It's outside of town, but not too far.

– Okay, but where is it?

– I specifically asked about the basement, and no problem! It also has a garden. Doesn't a garden sound nice, kid?"

I had a feeling Marvin wasn't interested in my opinion as much as trying to evade Harry's question. I wasn't the only one who picked on up on Marvin's suspicious attitude.

"Marv, where is it?" Harry insisted, more sternly this time. "Cause we already crossed off Signal Mountain. You know we can't afford that neighbourhood, even as a rental."

Marvin turned a cookie over in his hand, looking guilty, before confessing:

"It's nowhere near that neighbourhood. The house is in… Memphis.

– Memphis?" Harry repeated. "That's on the other side of the state!

– It's not that far. Besides, do you have a reason to stay here?"

Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking it over.

"You really want to move there?

– Why not? We had good times in Memphis. Remember the poolrooms, the breweries, the blues…

– You mean the bordellos." Harry corrected him, to which Marvin smiled broadly. "We're not talking about a weekend getaway, Marv. We could get in trouble in Memphis."

There was a warning in Harry's voice, but Marvin's eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Only if we go looking for trouble. Come on, you know this could be great for business."

I had no way of knowing this, but Marvin was not referring to their plumbing business, which thrived wherever they went. He meant their lucrative, but illegal hobby, the one he had missed most, the one he was desperate to pick up again.

"How about it, kid? Doesn't Memphis, the city where Rock and Roll was born, sound good?"

I didn't have an opinion on Memphis. I had never been there, but I could tell Marvin really wanted to go.

"I'll have my own room again?

– You betcha! A nice one!" Marvin promised.

"And I won't have to be handcuffed ever again?"

I saw a hint of hesitation in Marvin's eyes before he replied:

"Sure, new house, no handcuffs."

Marvin didn't have to say more.

"When do we leave?"

And so to Memphis we went.

Which meant a new message was left behind.

I couldn't help myself. I had no reason to mark my stay in a house I hated, but it had become a tradition, hadn't it? So right before we left, I scribbled a short note that mirrored my previous one, this time hidden inside the empty bathroom cabinet:

Kevin McCallister was here.

June 1992.

It was my personal victory over the house. A way to prove it had not had the better of me. Perhaps my true victory was over Harry and Marvin, but I blocked that association from my mind and walked out of the house in high spirits.

Marvin had left ahead to meet with his cousin and go over the details of the lease. I therefore drove to Memphis with Harry. Remembering our last road trip together, I was worried he would insist on the handcuffs, but to my relief he didn't. I had had enough of that!

Harry didn't engage me as much as Marvin did when we drove together, but I was in a good mood and he didn't spoil it. I'm sure my new game of recording my every word on my Talkboy annoyed him, but Harry didn't snap at me or told me to put it away. He let me play, encouraging me to practise my Italian. When it was just the two of us, Harry now always spoke Italian.

Our journey to Memphis was much shorter than our two previous moves had been. No staying at some crappy motel this time! When we arrived in the late afternoon, Marvin was already there to welcome us with a satisfied grin on his face.

"What did I tell ya? Isn't the place perfect?"

And it was perfect. The white stucco house Marvin's cousin had found was an old renovated farmhouse. Regardless of the threatening grey skies above us, the house looked as warm and inviting as the one in Chattanooga had been sinister. With one look, I knew we could be happy here.

The house sat far from the main road in a valley of gentle hills and dales. There were plenty of trees to provide shade, but no forest. I saw many neighbouring houses and didn't feel as isolated as I had been in Chattanooga or even Canada.

This house had also been lovingly cared for by its owners and I understood why the old lady wouldn't want to rent it to just anybody. In typical farmhouse style, it had a wraparound porch and a low sloping roof. Clean bushes and wild-flower beds were spread all over the front lawn. In the back was an additional screened-in porch where we would often eat and had a nice view of the backyard with its pear, apple and peach trees.

The main floor had been renovated in an open-air concept while retaining the exposed beams and shiplap covered ceiling. There was no dining room, but the kitchen was big enough to accommodate a much larger family than ours. A large rolling island made up for the lack of counter space, which Harry loved.

As for Marvin, he had not lied about my bedroom. The owner must've been a devoted grandmother as the basement had been transformed in a playroom. Although the furniture was gone, you could tell this had been designed with kids in mind. A mix of bookcases and cabinets covered an entire wall, while a chalkboard covered half another. There was no extra bedroom per se, but to my delight, I discovered a mezzanine hangout, which could be accessed through a small staircase on the side or a climbing wall. I loved it, what child wouldn't! I quickly claimed the mezzanine as my bedroom.

"What do you think, kid? Are there any ghosts lurking around?" Marvin teased as he gave us the tour.

"Ghost aren't real." I now had the conviction to reply, to Harry's approval.

It was easy to dismiss the bogeyman and such nonsense in this house.

The summer was a great time to start over. The warm Tennessee weather made me miss the Canadian lake, but nearby creeks made up for it. I explored the old barn on the property, climbed trees and ate fresh pears and peaches to my heart's content. It was an almost idyllic summer, save for the fact I was locked in all day long. Even if my situation had improved, I was still a prisoner, but I preferred not to think of it that way. I was committed to my new family.

During that period, I successfully repressed the memories of my previous life. To be happy, I concentrated on the now, and did not think about my past or uncertain future.

And for a while, we were happy.

I had never seen Harry in such a good mood. He took me fishing and showed me how to clean the fish we caught. To my delight, we even brought a few trout home for dinner! Marvin didn't fidget anymore or pester Harry about being bored. If anything, I would say Marvin became twice as devoted to play with me when they returned home from work. I associated his cheerful whistling and Harry's renewed fondness for evening cigars with their flourishing business.

Unbeknownst to me, this honeymoon phase had more to do with Harry and Marvin's return to their criminal activities than our move to Memphis. I couldn't and still can't tell when they started breaking and entering again. They came home every evening around the same time, and didn't leave in the middle of the night to prey on unsuspecting homeowners. Harry and Marvin didn't discuss their plan or bragged about their successes in my presence. They also avoided bringing home most of their loot and rented a storage space in town for their more cumbersome items.

Whatever loot they brought home, they kept upstairs in the spare bedroom. I wasn't allowed in there, but that was nothing new. I assumed it was the office, which Harry kept under lock and key. Once in a while, Harry would take boxes from that room and leave to attend "business meetings" in town. Upon his return, he would split money with Marvin. Although Harry had used the euphemism "business meetings" before, I didn't put two and two together.

What eventually raised my suspicions were the presents Marvin brought me. Gone were the cheap gumball machine toys he bought me in Chattanooga, his presents in Memphis became more refine, and expensive. From the Ghostbusters's firehouse and vehicle, a Nintendo console with the most popular games, the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures and technodrome, Marvin turned every week into Christmas. Even my parents didn't shower my siblings and me with gifts the way Marvin did. It was thrilling to be the centre of attention and spoiled that way.

Over time, I, however, began to question where all these presents came from. The value of money was still an abstract concept, but I knew these toys must've been expensive. Given that Harry and Marvin wouldn't rent kid's movies for fear of raising questions, I found it odd that Harry would let Marvin raid the Toys R Us. What further raised my suspicion was how Marvin didn't keep track of the toys he gave me.

"Marv, I already have the Legend of Zelda." I one day remarked when he handed me new Nintendo games.

"You do?

– Yeah, you bought it last week. And why did you buy me a Nintendo Barbie game? That's for girls!

– My bad! I'll return them tomorrow." He would always say when such strange occurrences happened.

The games disappeared and new ones replaced them. I found Marvin's behaviour very strange. Even with five kids, my parents knew what toys we owned and didn't. Money didn't grow on tree, they would tell us. Marvin, on the other side, was sending his money a little too freely. That fact floated on the edge of my consciousness, but I didn't examine it. There were games to be played and new toys to distract me.

Just like my Gameboy, none of the toys Marvin brought me came in their original packaging. Other didn't look new with faded colours or missing accessories. Those details made me uneasy, but I quickly dismissed them. Part of me didn't want to acknowledge what was going on; for a while there, I did a very good job at turning a blind eye.

Until the skateboard, that is.

Skateboards were all the rage. They were nothing new, but they had gained popularity since the beginning of the decade with teenage daredevils. MTV would show them performing jumps, flips and other stunts; they were the epitome of teenage coolness! I would watch every competition, every tutorial and video clip religiously.

Although I was not attending school, I still wanted to feel cool and in 1992, it meant showing off your skills on a skateboard. So when Marvin brought one home, I was all over it. And what a skateboard it was! The design of its deck was every parent's nightmare, a punk styled skeleton, joint between its teeth, holding a smoking gun and giving the middle finger. That skateboard would've made any elementary schoolboy the envy of his peers! My parents never would've let my brothers bring that skateboard home. How could I not love it!

"Wow! Marv, it's so cool!

– You think I'd let you roll around on some sissy skateboard with Looney Tunes or Muppets on it? No way!

– He doesn't have a helmet, Marv." Harry protested. "What if he falls? What if he gets hurt?

– I don't need a helmet, I'll be careful!

– Let him have some fun, Harry. The kid won't be jumping off ramps anytime soon; he'll be fine.

– Stay in the driveway and do not cross the street!" Harry stressed as I rushed outside, followed by Marvin.

Harry was not a fan of skateboards or anything that could allow me to escape faster than he could run. Marvin took a gamble with that skateboard, but I was much too excited to try it out to think about running away. Besides, learning how to roll on the board wasn't as easy as it looked. That evening, Marvin and I each took turns. We fell down, ran after the board up and down the driveway and couldn't ride around with the ease of those professional on TV. In one word, I was hooked.

"Thanks, Marv! I love it!" I told him when we retired for the night.

"Glad you like it, kid."

I was so pleased I took the skateboard with me to bed. As I lay there, admiring the deck's drawing, I noticed a sticker on the inside of the front truck. It read Property of Max Dennison. I stared at the sticker before quickly flipping the skateboard over, wishing I hadn't seen it. I, however, couldn't deny what I had read and was flooded with guilt. Whoever this Max was, I knew he had not sold his skateboard to Marvin.

Faced with this evidence, I had looked at the toys scattered in the basement. They weren't so great anymore. Those toys weren't mine; they had never been mine. My pleasure had come at someone else's expense and I didn't know how to handle this knowledge. I first blamed Marvin for putting me in this position. Why did he have to steal stuff? Why couldn't he buy toys in a store like a normal person? But Marvin had only wanted to please me, hadn't he? So was this my fault? It made me angry, sad and ashamed all at once. It seemed too much responsibility for a nine-year-old.

So did I confront Marvin? No, I didn't. What was I supposed to say? Stop bringing me stolen toys? It wouldn't have stopped Harry and Marvin from breaking into houses. And yeah, maybe I enjoyed the presents too. As selfish as it sounds, I felt I deserved them. I had no friends and spent most of my days in solitude. Surely, I needed these toys much more than their original owners did!

How did I deal with the skateboard situation? By scratching the sticker off and throwing it away, never to mention it to Marvin. Once I had removed the evidence, I felt better. Or at least I told myself I would be, given time. As with the Gameboy incident, I rationalized the situation as best as I could. Why should I feel guilty? I hadn't stolen the skateboard and I hadn't asked Marvin to steal it for me either. I never asked Marvin for anything!

Okay, so maybe that's I lie.

I did ask Marvin for one thing.

It wasn't a toy, or candy. After the skateboard incident, I had been more careful when it came to expressing what I wanted. My request wasn't something Marvin could steal, or I least I didn't think he would've, so I didn't feel bad for asking.

One night, I waited until Harry had stepped outside to clean the barbecue while Marvin and I washed the dishes. My request was a tricky one and I wanted Harry out of the way for this conversation; I had a feeling he would ruin it. I didn't have much time, so I gathered my courage and asked point-blank:

"Marv, can I… have a dog?

– A dog?" Marvin repeated as he dried off a plate.

"Yeah. Like Zeus. Remember Zeus?

– Sure I do…

– Remember last Christmas; how much fun we had? I miss having a dog; could we get one?"

I wanted to appear casual while I was pining inside. I so wanted a dog. I had had my heart set on one ever since we had left Canada. I could not stand being alone all the time. For all the fun I had with Marvin, he couldn't replace friends. And since Harry and Marvin weren't taking me to playgrounds anytime soon, a dog seemed like a good alternative to human companionship. A dog would make my loneliness more bearable.

My request did take Marvin by surprise. Considering how attached I had been to Zeus, I don't understand how he didn't see it coming. I could tell Marvin did not want to refuse, but was not on board with the idea.

"Having a dog is… That's a lot of work, kid.

– We are not getting a dog." Harry chimed in.

I silently cursed my bad luck. Harry had come back inside much too early in the conversation. I wasn't naïve and knew Marvin would've cleared my request with Harry before getting a dog, but I had hoped to win Marvin to my side before he brought it up with his partner.

Once he had spoken, Harry rarely changed his mind, but there was no way I would give up on a dog so easily.

"Why not?" I challenged him.

"Taking care of you is enough work; we don't need to add a dog on top of it.

– It would be my dog, I would take care of it!"

Harry didn't say it, but I could guess what he was thinking. How could I take care of a dog, take it outside, pick up its business and walk it, when I wasn't allowed outside on my own?

"Nice try kid, but you couldn't, even if you'd wanted to."

I had anticipated their refusal and changed tactic.

"If I can't have a dog, can I have a gecko?"

I had heard of the lizard on television. It was no dog, but it looked fun. Marvin seemed relieved our conversation did not turn into another crisis and more receptive to the idea of a gecko.

"A gecko? What's a gecko?

– A reptile.

– A reptile?" Marvin lost his smile. "Like a snake?

– No Marv, it's a lizard and we are not getting one." Harry once again intervened.

This conversation wasn't going the way I wanted at all!

"A gecko doesn't need to go out!" I argued, showing my frustration. "I could take care of it!

– You'd tire yourself of the thing before the end of the week." Harry declared.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I would've grown tired of a lizard, but that did not solve my loneliness issues.

"I wouldn't tire of a dog." I circled back to my initial argument, unwilling to give up so easily.

"Kid, we said no!"

Harry was running out of patience, but I ignored him, turning to Marvin with pleading eyes.

"And what about Zeus? I took good care of him! Didn't I take good care of him?

– Sure you did. But that was for two weeks. Dogs live for a long, long time." Marvin explained.

I glared; couldn't Marvin see that was the point!

"Well, yeah, Marv… That way I would have a friend for a long, long time." I answered with an air of reproach.

At my answer, Marvin got that panicky look that told me I could wear him down, given time.

"You don't need a dog! You already got a friend. We're pals, right?

– But you're away all the time! A dog would stay with me. You know… So I wouldn't be alone."

Marvin's looked frantically to Harry, begging him to handle this. Harry read his partner loud and clear.

"Listen kid, we are not getting a dog, and that's final."

Harry had let me go on much longer than he usually would have. When he spoke, he didn't snap, sounding resolute, thought concerned.

"Not ever?

– No dogs." Harry replied firmly. "You got that, Marv? No dogs." He made a point of repeating, knowing how his partner was prone to caving-in to my demands. "Now go play with your Nintendo and stuff. I'll finish the dishes with Marv."

I looked one last time to Marvin, hoping he would wink at me or give me some sign he would sort it out with Harry, but nothing. I was crushed!

The battle for a dog is one I would never win.

I was more hurt than angry by their refusal. Was my request so unreasonable? The memory of my family did resurface long enough for me to remember how my parents had balanced a household with five kids and a dog. They never made it look hard. I kept that thought to myself, however, not wanting Marvin to remind me how my parents had forgotten me. After all this time, I reflected that perhaps he had a point… Maybe my parents had had too much on their plate and leaving me behind had been proof of how hectic their life was.

I tried to persuade myself I didn't need a dog. Plenty of kids couldn't have pets; it wasn't the end of the world. And I did have all the toys I wanted, didn't I? That's when I fell into video games hard. I lost myself into them all day long to the point of obsession.

I loved video games, and still do, but, that summer, they became an addiction. I played video games because I didn't have anything better to do, because I was bored, because I was lonely. Video games provided an easy escape. They, however, didn't cure my boredom; I would say they exacerbated it. It wasn't a healthy lifestyle.

One morning, when I came up for breakfast, Harry was waiting for me.

"I woke up last night. The TV was on; were you up playing that Duck Hunt game all night?

– I got to level 78! Stupid duck… I'll get it." I muttered stifling a yawn.

"Your eyes are red-hot, you look like a drunk." Harry remarked. "That's enough. No more video games for a couple of days."

I looked to Harry wistfully.

"You're going to take my Nintendo away? What else am I going to do all day!

– You can-

– Watch TV?" I replied sarcastically.

Harry frowned, making me regret my sass.

"Mind your tone." He chided me. Then, after giving it some thought, Harry came with the, oh so original suggestion "I wouldn't kill you to pick up a book."

Harry wasn't the most avid reader, but he always had a pocket book lying around, crime novels, mostly.

"Books are boring." I countered. They were my last resort.

"No, they are not; you just haven't found the right one."

To prove my point, I picked up Harry's latest novel from the table in the living room.

"I Know my Name is Steven." I read the title and rolled my eyes. "Sounds boring! What's it about?"

Harry quickly snatched the book from my hands.

"Never mind that. The point is, you can't keep playing video games and watching TV all day.

– Why?

– Cause it's bad for you.

– Why?"

My question appeared to stomp Harry who didn't have an answer.

"You know I don't like the "why" game!" he finally snapped. "No more video games!"

When Harry left for the day, he did not confiscate my Nintendo. Alone, locked in my basement, I did look at the few books on the shelves. Comparing books to video games wasn't fair to books. In a matter of minutes, I had picked up the controller once more.

That evening, instead of unlocking the door and calling me upstairs upon his arrival, Harry walked into the basement. I barely acknowledged his presence, taken by an ongoing battle against one of the Koopas.

"Still playing video games, I see?" Harry stated.

"I'm almost done!

– Yes, you are."

And on that note, Harry unplugged the Nintendo. The screen froze for half a second before turning to static.

"Harry, I never got that far!" I shrieked in horror.

"I said enough video games and I meant it, kid. No more Nintendo, television, or Gameboy!" he said, picking up my Gameboy as he spoke.

"But I…

– No more! Now come on, Marv and I, we brought you something better to do with your time."

I reluctantly followed Harry upstairs. Something better to do with my time? That did not sound fun at all! What did Harry know about fun? He was so old! He had never played video games. He couldn't understand!

My internal grumbling came to an abrupt stop the second I stepped on the main floor. In the hall, waiting for me, was a piano.

"Is that for me?" I gasped.

"That depends; will you practise?

– Yes!"

I hadn't seen, let alone played the piano in ages. Not since… I avoided the fleeting memory. I had never mentioned my love of music to Harry and Marvin and wondered how they could've known. Had they guessed? I decided I did not care.

I walked to the piano, inspecting it. Well, it wasn't a real piano; it was a portable electric one, but it wasn't some cheap keyboard either. I ran my fingers down the keys. There were eighty-eight, each of them weighted, just like a real piano! It wasn't the baby grand I used to practise on, but I wasn't about to be picky.

"So… You like it?" Marvin asked, sounding unconvinced.

He was standing next to the instrument, watching my reaction with a dubious look on his face. Harry always pretended the piano was a gift from Marvin and him, but I had a feeling this was Harry's doing. Marvin would not have brought me a piano. He didn't understand why anyone would adopt such a boring pastime and showed little interest in my musical performances.

"Yeah! Can I play? Right now?

– We'll take it downstairs. Come on, Marv, give me a hand."

Next to the piano were music books for beginners. I followed Harry and Marvin, skimming through them. Most of the books were classics music sheets for kids and I recognized some of them from my piano lessons. As I had never had any interest in kids' pieces, I was happy to discover some more advanced music sheets inside the piano bench, along a metronome.

"You can read those?" Marvin asked with mild interest.

"Yeah, my grandpa showed me!"

Marvin scowled at the mention of my family, but for once, didn't have anything hurtful to say. Before I could go through all the music books, Harry gathered them, leaving me a colourful one meant for beginners.

"Here, start with this one.

– But that's for babies!" I protested.

"If you can play every music piece in the book, you can move on to the next level.

– But there so-

– No buts! I meant it!"

Harry flipped through the pages and selected a piece.

"There, try this one."

I looked at the music sheet.

"Mary Had a Little Lamb?" I scoffed.

"If it's so easy, go on, play it."

This was such a simple song any ninny could play it! I had mastered such level ages ago! But Harry could be as stubborn as I was when it came to these matters. When I saw he wouldn't budge, I accepted the book, sighing loudly to signal my exasperation and sat at the piano.

I was much too proud to show it, but I was a bit nervous. It had been such a long time since I played the piano, what if I made an ass of myself? What if I couldn't find the right notes? I couldn't mess up Marry Had a Little Lamb; it would be so embarrassing! As soon as my fingers touched the keys, however, my doubts vanished. I remembered! Or at least my fingers did. They moved with a will of their own, hitting one key after another, forming the nursery rhyme. Memory is a funny thing. I could not recall the name of my piano teacher, but my fingers had not forgotten the lessons. I played the song without making a single mistake.

Feeling more confident and wanting to prove my skills to Harry, I turned the pages of the book to select another, more complicated, song. I wasn't sure which one to choose until I came across Lavender Blue. It had been one of my mother's favourite and I would play it to cheer her up. It was simple, while more elaborate than Mary Had a Little Lamb. It was sure to impress.

As I played the song, I hesitate once or twice, but quickly recovered and barely missed a beat. I had forgotten how much I loved piano! I loved the sound, I loved the feeling. It had a way of uplifting my mood, no matter what I played. When I was done, I turned to Harry and Marvin to gage their reaction. With satisfaction, I noted how dumbfounded Marvin looked, but Harry showed no surprise, smiling broadly.

"Well, aren't you the little Mozart."

When they brought me the piano, I was under no illusion; Harry hadn't bought this piano any more than Marvin had bought any of my toys. He wouldn't have wasted that much money on me. I'm surprised he even considered offering me such an instrument, given how much it was worth. But give it to me he did.

Besides, my love of piano ran too deep for me to have any qualms about playing it. Harry seldom offered me presents, and when he did, he took it seriously. From the day he brought me the piano, Harry would sit by my side every evening and listen as I played my daily piece.

Although I missed video games, practising piano was no chore and I quickly caught up with my lessons. Over the years, Harry always provided me with new piano books whenever I mastered a level. He would eventually give me my Nintendo and Gameboy back, but video games no longer held the same power over me.

It was one way of making me forget about having a dog…

AN:

Fragments of these scenes were written such a long time ago, as in almost since the beginning, I am so happy to finally be able to properly incorporate them in the story! I know that the previous chapters might seem like useless filler, but they foreshadowed many events to come.

Again, the house described in this chapter is a real house! A lovely country home near Memphis I fell in love with when I first saw it. Speaking of Memphis, wasn't this city mentioned in previous chapters? Can anyone guess where our trio will move next?

As for Kevin's love of piano, I was inspired by the original Home Alone script in which Kevin was supposed to play piano to drive Harry and Marvin away. That scene was replaced by the fake party (which I think was a great decision on the director's part; that party scene was awesome!). Macaulay Culkin had to learn to play piano for that scene and I thought it would be fun to incorporate that into the story.

Readers who have been following the scenes from the "Broken Home" side of the story will know exactly how Harry came to learn of Kevin's love of piano. See? It's all coming together!

Stay tuned!