The piano was out of tune, just enough for Arianne to notice but not enough to bother Lily.
Lily sat at the bench with her back straight and played the same five notes over and over. C-D-E-F-G, then back down. Each note came out deliberate with her small fingers pressing hard and the rhythm uneven and determined.
She had asked to practice, and no one had told her to. She had finished breakfast and pushed in her chair and announced she was going to "work on her music." The way she said it made Arianne think of herself at that age. She meant the posture, not the music. The decision to be good at something before knowing what good meant.
