“It happened, Tara. I went through the loss, and I locked myself in my room and cried, then it came to me that wallowing in the loss was not honorin... her memory, that she didn’t want that. That’s when I got my violin out and played, and I promised myself that I would play like she was watching and I would play so she could be proud.” She opened her violin case, took the instrument out, put it under her chin. The bow touched strings, her notes, I can’t identify the song, but it started out in. "You... you no fake." Michiko said."You would prefer I were a charlatain?" Aluicius asked. "A mere illusionist? Someone for the Masked Magician to debunk on national television? I'm always disappointed by such characters. There's nothing to them, no substance, only parlor tricks I could outdo on my worst day." He gestured, and her spread-eagle posture became something more like military attention. "My dear, look at you, you're so tense. Relax. Sleep." He touched her forehead, and her eyes. More

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