Page 67 of Symphony for Lies

My gaze wandered over the other titles on the shelf, and a deep lilac book with golden lettering caught my eye.Wind Chimes and Their Sounds.

Almost instinctively, my hand reached for it.

“Wind chimes?” Zane inquired, seeming to recall something. “The tones did sound kind of like wind chimes.” His gaze sharpened on me. “I take it you’re not going to let me in on your little secret, are you?”

Something twisted inside my chest. I wanted to tell him, to share the weight of everything with someone else, but could I?

Wouldn’t I just be dragging him into the twisted game, too?

Instead of answering, I just dropped my gaze.

“Come here.” His warm fingers gently wrapped around my wrist to pull me across the room.

The air between us felt charged.

We sat down on the piano bench, so close that our clothes brushed together.

Zane took the books from my hands, set them aside, and lifted the lid, exposing the sleek black-and-white keys.His fingertips grazed across them, teasing the notes before pressing down on a soft, melodic chord.

“I can show you a few things before you bury yourself in those books.”

“I didn’t know you played the piano,” I admitted, not hiding the doubt in my voice.

“I’m not the best.” He shrugged. “My talent lies with the violin.”

I blinked, caught off guard. Hearing him admit he wasn’t perfect at something felt unexpected.

“Why are you even helping me?” Before he could answer, I shook my head. “No. Don’t answer that.”

A slow smile tugged at his lips, but his fingers stilled against the keys for just a second.

It was subtle, but I noticed it. Like he had caught himself getting too lost in the moment.

He cleared his throat, and a smirk slid into place like nothing had happened at all.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said genuinely. “I really appreciate it.”

Zane’s eyes softened. He pressed a bright note, letting it linger before shifting into an explanation.

He told me everything he knew about secret messages in music. I had already heard of some of it before, but other things were new. For example, the sequence of notes could be a deliberate misdirection. Or, specific meanings could be the opposite of what they appear to be.

“Each note can stand for something. A direction, an emotion, even a letter, depending on how it’s used. It’s like the sender has their own musical code, and we’re trying to crack the pattern.”

His finger moved lightly over the keys, effortless and teasing.“Let’s see if you can decode this one.”He played a simple pattern of notes.

The sounds vibrated in the air, carrying an almost instinctive direction.

“Look to the left?”

He nodded.“Exactly. But like I told you, sometimes the meaning is reversed.” He pressed another key, layering a lower F beneath the high C.“So the actual message would be, look to the right.”

I nodded, quickly typing notes into my phone.

“Some tones are signals,” Zane continued. “Some are confessions. Love letters. Warnings. Clues. And sometimes…” He paused, his fingers drifting. “…sometimes, they’re meant to mislead you.”

I nodded.

“It’s a bit like musical Morse Code. Except there’s no universal system. You have to feel your way through it based on what repeats. And what feels off.”