Tuesday came in clear and cold, the first frost silvering the dock, the lake still and bright under a sky that had decided to be generous. Aaron woke to the light and lay for a moment, running through the day the way he had run through the days all week — the drive, the room, the reading, the drive back. The book was on the nightstand where he had left it, the slips of paper marking their places, the last passage still unchosen.
He made coffee and stood at the kitchen window. Somewhere down the coast, in a small warm room, she would be standing in front of a microphone tonight. And the last passage was his to give her.
His phone buzzed at nine. Daisy.
*Two days. I keep opening the file to change it. Is that normal?*
He typed back: *It's the song telling you it's done. Leave it alone. It'll be the right one.*
Her reply came quickly: *You sound like Sophie. She said almost the same thing. Fine. I'll leave it alone. Break a leg tonight.*
