“Pike is a Darkling?” she croaked. “But he was here—if Pike is my father, then my mom must know something. He and my mom were best friends.”
Walker cocked an eyebrow at her.
Obviously, they’d been more than friends.
“I have to talk to my mom. Tonight. As soon as she gets back.” The frustration of so many missed opportunities built painfully in her chest and she growled. “I can’t believe she never told me any of this before. If she had, we might already know where Pike is! We might already be safe.”
“Keira?” The warning in Walker’s voice snapped her out of her hysteria.
She braced herself. “Yeah?”
“That’s not all it says. It tells us where he is. Uh, sort of. This says that when he disappeared, he went—” Walker stopped, frowning.
“What?” Keira demanded, impatient. “He went where?”
“It says ‘somewhere thin as thread, a rocky haven in a watery grave.’ ”
“Where is that?” Keira asked, her mind spinning.
Walker shook his head. “I don’t know. It says, ‘I’ll wait there. My only hope is that these words below and the keys above will both make sense to you. Your music is my only salvation. It will save us all.’ ” Walker looked over at her. “He knew you could play?”
“Yes and no. I used to go with my mother when she had choir rehearsals. Pike was always there. The accompanist showed me how to play the melody lines and stuff when there was a break. I couldn’t have been more than three, but I remember it. I’d play what she played. Pike was excited that I learned it so fast. That’s one of the reasons I remember it so clearly, I think.”
“So he knew, before he left. He knew you were his and he knew that all the experimenting had finally paid off.” Walker’s voice faded. “But it would have been too soon. Your talent wouldn’t have been developed enough to prove him right. No wonder he ran off. Staying here would have gotten both of you killed. His only chance of survival—for both of you—was to hide. And hope you found him later.”
The words sloshed over her, cold and heavy. “But it sounds like if we find him, he thinks we can fix the whole mess. Like he knows a way we could get the Reformers to let us all live.”
Walker nodded. “I agree. This could be the answer to everything, if we find him. But if we fail . . . ” His voice trailed off.
The squeak of the back door startled Keira so much that she nearly banged her head on the piano.
“Hello?” her mother called. “I’m back. Sorry it took me so long—I figured if I was already holding up dinner, I might as well pick up some things to make a salad.”
Walker scooted out from beneath the piano, reaching down to help Keira. She opened her mouth to respond to her mother, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. It was like all the words had been shaken out of her.
Chapter Forty-Five
“WE’RE IN HERE, MRS. Brannon,” Walker called. “Keira was just playing for me.”
Keira’s mom appeared in the doorway. Her hair was limp and there were harried lines tracing the corners of her eyes, but her smile was genuine.
“Walker, it’s Julia. I insist.” She turned her smile to Keira and it dimmed a shade, a wash of sadness sliding over it. “I’d love it if you played something while I’m finishing dinner. I miss hearing you play more than anything.”
Walker put a hand on the small of her back and Keira leaned into it. There were too many pieces of too many questions fluttering around her head and the effort of putting it all aside to pretend everything was normal for her mother was more than she could handle.
One thing at a time. That’s what she’d promised herself. All she had to do was play one piece for her mother. That was the next thing.
She could play one piece of music.
“Sure,” she said, stepping away from Walker. Pulling herself together, she slid onto the piano bench. “Anything particular you want to hear?”
It was all she could do to keep her hands away from the message carved below the keyboard. How many hours had she spent with her fingertips inches from the truth?
“How about that Brahms piece you were working on? That one is so pretty,” her mother said.
Keira put her hands on the keys, reaching for the start of the sonata that she’d been planning to play for her Juilliard audition, until she’d found the Beethoven piece that day at Take Note.
The day she’d met Walker.
At the time, it had just seemed like a strange day, something she’d never remember in a month’s time. Now, she could see her whole life spread out, before and after, resting on that day like a fulcrum.
That day had changed everything.
The timbre of her mother’s waiting shifted, and Keira realized she’d been drifting through her thoughts in silence.