childhood,” he said.
Scarlet came over and stood beside him. As she stood there, she looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the moon, illuminating him at the piano. Through the old, warped glass she saw the huge backyard, framed by oak trees, sloping down towards the river—and beyond it, the glistening Hudson.
Sage began to play, and the music took her breath away. She was transported. It was the most beautiful melody she’d ever heard, slow and soft and dark, and the more he played, the more relaxed she felt. As the notes filled the air, all the stress of the last few days began to pour out of her. All the tension with her parents, the stress of her being sick, her fighting with Vivian, with Maria…it all slowly left.
When he finished, a peaceful silence filled the room. The grandfather clock ticked several seconds before she could open her eyes again.
“That was beautiful,” she said.
He smiled, then quickly closed the lid, as if embarrassed.
“It’s been a long time,” he said.
“What song was that?”
“Beethoven,” he said. “The Moonlight Sonata. You should have heard him play it,” he added nostalgically, looking off into the distance as if remembering.
Scarlet was confused.
“Um…hasn’t he been dead a long time?” she asked. “How could you have heard him play it?”
He seemed caught off guard.
“I meant…um…what I meant to say was that I heard a recording of him playing it.”
But Sage looked flustered, as if caught in a lie. And as Scarlet thought about it, it seemed odd—they didn’t have recording devices hundreds of years ago. How could he have heard Beethoven playing it?
But he quickly got up from the piano and took her hand, and began to lead her through the house—and her focus changed. The feel of his hand on hers was electrifying: it was hard to think of anything else.
She was nervous as he led her through all the rooms, and wondered where he was taking her. Could he be leading her to her bedroom? If so, what would she say?
Scarlet got even more nervous as she started to think about how attracted she felt to him. She thought back to her time with Blake, by the river, of how she had changed. Wanted his blood. She felt so nervous that something like that might happen again—this time with Sage. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She couldn’t ruin things. Not twice. She willed her body to stay normal. She prayed that she wouldn’t suddenly freak out again and have to run out of here.
Please God. Make me be normal. Just tonight. Just let me get through this.
Finally, Sage led her to a set of tall, French doors. He reached up, unlocked the antique brass hardware, slid the bolts and turned the delicate knobs. He pulled open both doors and took her hand and led her outside onto the wide, stone terrace.
The night air was crisp and refreshing. The terrace stretched forever, fifty feet in each direction, and culminated in a wide, marble railing.
He led her to it and as they leaned against it, she looked out at the huge full moon over the Hudson, the water sparkling. The air was filled with the sound of the ancient trees swaying in the wind.
Scarlet felt as if she’d walked into a postcard. She wanted to freeze this moment forever.
It also made her feel a more pressing need for answers. Who was this boy, really? Was this all too good to be true?
“Tell me about you,” Scarlet said, as she turned and faced him. His mysterious grey eyes were glistening, reflecting the color of the moon as he looked out at the horizon.
“Like what?” he asked.
“Anything. Everything. I really don’t know anything. You’re so…mysterious. Nobody really knows anything. It’s like you just showed up one day, out of nowhere. Tell me about you. Your past. Where you’re from. Your family. It’s all so…different. You’re so different from everyone around here. Don’t you see that?”
He looked away, and she hoped she hadn’t pushed too far. But she was dying
Scarlet came over and stood beside him. As she stood there, she looked out through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the moon, illuminating him at the piano. Through the old, warped glass she saw the huge backyard, framed by oak trees, sloping down towards the river—and beyond it, the glistening Hudson.
Sage began to play, and the music took her breath away. She was transported. It was the most beautiful melody she’d ever heard, slow and soft and dark, and the more he played, the more relaxed she felt. As the notes filled the air, all the stress of the last few days began to pour out of her. All the tension with her parents, the stress of her being sick, her fighting with Vivian, with Maria…it all slowly left.
When he finished, a peaceful silence filled the room. The grandfather clock ticked several seconds before she could open her eyes again.
“That was beautiful,” she said.
He smiled, then quickly closed the lid, as if embarrassed.
“It’s been a long time,” he said.
“What song was that?”
“Beethoven,” he said. “The Moonlight Sonata. You should have heard him play it,” he added nostalgically, looking off into the distance as if remembering.
Scarlet was confused.
“Um…hasn’t he been dead a long time?” she asked. “How could you have heard him play it?”
He seemed caught off guard.
“I meant…um…what I meant to say was that I heard a recording of him playing it.”
But Sage looked flustered, as if caught in a lie. And as Scarlet thought about it, it seemed odd—they didn’t have recording devices hundreds of years ago. How could he have heard Beethoven playing it?
But he quickly got up from the piano and took her hand, and began to lead her through the house—and her focus changed. The feel of his hand on hers was electrifying: it was hard to think of anything else.
She was nervous as he led her through all the rooms, and wondered where he was taking her. Could he be leading her to her bedroom? If so, what would she say?
Scarlet got even more nervous as she started to think about how attracted she felt to him. She thought back to her time with Blake, by the river, of how she had changed. Wanted his blood. She felt so nervous that something like that might happen again—this time with Sage. She couldn’t allow that to happen. She couldn’t ruin things. Not twice. She willed her body to stay normal. She prayed that she wouldn’t suddenly freak out again and have to run out of here.
Please God. Make me be normal. Just tonight. Just let me get through this.
Finally, Sage led her to a set of tall, French doors. He reached up, unlocked the antique brass hardware, slid the bolts and turned the delicate knobs. He pulled open both doors and took her hand and led her outside onto the wide, stone terrace.
The night air was crisp and refreshing. The terrace stretched forever, fifty feet in each direction, and culminated in a wide, marble railing.
He led her to it and as they leaned against it, she looked out at the huge full moon over the Hudson, the water sparkling. The air was filled with the sound of the ancient trees swaying in the wind.
Scarlet felt as if she’d walked into a postcard. She wanted to freeze this moment forever.
It also made her feel a more pressing need for answers. Who was this boy, really? Was this all too good to be true?
“Tell me about you,” Scarlet said, as she turned and faced him. His mysterious grey eyes were glistening, reflecting the color of the moon as he looked out at the horizon.
“Like what?” he asked.
“Anything. Everything. I really don’t know anything. You’re so…mysterious. Nobody really knows anything. It’s like you just showed up one day, out of nowhere. Tell me about you. Your past. Where you’re from. Your family. It’s all so…different. You’re so different from everyone around here. Don’t you see that?”
He looked away, and she hoped she hadn’t pushed too far. But she was dying
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