Julian looked at him.
“A monument?”
“To what you gave up.”
That landed.
Julian took the case home.
That night, I heard him play for the first time since the sale.
The melody was uncertain at first.
Then steadier.
It was one Thomas used to hum while cooking.
I sat outside Julian’s bedroom without letting him know I was there.
And I listened.
Three days later, Rebecca called.
“They found something.”
My heart jumped.
“What?”
“The inspection company looked at Maya’s old wheelchair.”
“And?”
“The bolt was loosened.”
“We knew that.”
“No. I mean it was loosened recently.”
I sat straighter.
“They can tell?”
“There was fresh scoring on the metal.”
“Then somebody did sabotage it.”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“The examiner can’t determine intent. Someone could have attempted a repair.”
“Did anyone?”
“Maya’s father says no.”
I looked toward Julian, who was doing homework at the kitchen table.
