Chapter 3 - The forgotten melody
The sounds of the bustling city street faded into a dull, rushing roar in Richard’s ears. He was a billionaire who controlled global industries, a man who dealt strictly in cold, hard facts and unyielding logic. But the crescent moon on the starving girl's wrist shattered every logical defense he possessed. Lucy, feeling the immense, sudden warmth of the expensive cashmere coat, let out a long, shaky breath. She closed her eyes for a brief second, seeking comfort in the soft material. And then, entirely unconsciously, she began to hum.
It was a soft, hauntingly beautiful melody. It was simple, a rhythmic, tender tune meant to soothe a restless sleeper. Richard’s blood ran absolute ice cold. He remained kneeling on the snow-covered pavement, but his massive frame went entirely rigid. His dark eyes widened, staring at the little girl as the melody floated from her freezing lips into the winter air. He knew that song. No one else in the entire world could possibly know that song. Seven years ago, his beloved wife, Sarah, had sat at the grand piano in their penthouse, her heavily pregnant belly pressing against the keys. She had spent weeks composing that specific, unique lullaby for the daughter she was carrying. It was never written down. It was never recorded. It was a private, sacred secret between a husband and his pregnant wife.
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Sarah had died the night she went into premature labor. The doctors had told Richard the baby didn't survive the traumatic birth either. He had buried two closed caskets because the hospital claimed the remains were too tragic to be viewed. He had lived in a hollow, mechanical nightmare of grief for seven long years.
“Who taught you that song?” Richard asked, his voice a hoarse, ragged whisper that carried more profound shock than a shout. Lucy stopped humming. She opened her large, innocent eyes, looking at the towering, wealthy man kneeling in front of her. She clutched the cashmere coat tighter. “My mommy taught it to me. She used to sing it when I was hungry, so I could fall asleep.” Richard felt the earth violently tilt beneath him. “Your mommy... where is your mommy right now, sweetheart?” Before Lucy could even point a small, trembling finger down the dark alley, Camille realized exactly what was happening. Her pristine, aristocratic composure completely unraveled into pure, unadulterated panic.
