Music?

It's over. AnnaCorvo and Sam do not know us anymore.

Rayman issued a warning "Miss Worthington" - he tried to say be careful. (Phoebe pg. 432 vs.517).

Jordan had already bolted down to The Basement, then back, before I had time to panic.

After Sam, and sighing with the inevitable fact that we were not all going to make it, he talked about the music down there.

"It's dark," he said, "different, not the loop we have lived on for years." He put his face in his hands.

"Dark? Jordy, do you think we need more dark?" I asked, having to admit that Haydn and Mozart were not exactly dark.

"No, no, this is not some classical icon. Just different," he grinned, leaning in close. "Here, he whispered. "I taped it, it feels like a waltz. Want to dance?" I could see him holding back tears.

"No, honey, let's just listen."

God,.....this time of year. He leaned on me for a moment, the went back to the Waltz, smiling, somewhere far far away.