Elliot stared at the girl. She stared back, as if waiting for him to speak first. He wasn't used to this kind of directness. Most people in Seaview didn't ask questions. They let him exist in the background, a shadow with no past and no future.
But this girl—whoever she was—was different.
"What's your name?" he asked.
She smirked. "Iris."
He nodded, glancing again at the broken piano. The last time he had touched a piano was ten years ago. His fingers twitched at the memory, a ghost of muscle memory still buried beneath the years of silence.
"You play?" Iris asked, following his gaze.
Elliot hesitated. "Not anymore."
She raised an eyebrow. "That means you used to."
He didn't answer. Instead, he shifted the conversation. "And you? That was… a decent song."
Iris shrugged. "I mess around. My brother used to play guitar. I just picked up pieces where I could."
Something flickered in her eyes, something guarded. Elliot recognized that look. It was the kind of expression people wore when a memory hurt too much to speak aloud. He didn't push.
"You shouldn't be here this late," he said instead.
She scoffed. "Neither should you."
Elliot sighed. He should've walked away by now, let her be someone else's problem. But something about the way she carried herself—like she was trying too hard not to care—kept him standing there.
Finally, she broke the silence. "Why'd you stop playing?"
His chest tightened. "That's not your business."
Iris didn't look offended. She just nodded, as if filing the information away for later. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a folded sheet of music. "Do you know this?"
Elliot's breath caught in his throat. The notes were faded, handwritten, but he recognized the song instantly.
It was his.
A piece he had composed years ago. One that had never been played outside his own hands.
"How did you get this?" he asked sharply.
Iris studied him, a slow, knowing smile creeping onto her face. "So it is yours."
Elliot clenched his jaw. He should've walked away. He should've ignored the sounds in this building. But now he was standing in front of a girl he'd never met, holding a forgotten piece of his past in her hands.
And he had no idea what it meant.