Chapter 4 A Glimpse of Him

Melody tried to keep her head down in the days that followed.

She scrubbed floors until her knees bruised, dusted chandeliers that hung like frozen clouds, and polished silver trays that reflected a girl she barely recognized. Gone was the small-town daughter of bakers. In her place stood a quiet shadow in a black uniform - a servant in the home of strangers.

But no matter how hard she worked, she couldn't shake the image of Adrian Calloway.

The way he had looked out the window that day - detached from everything, even the world around him. And the way his eyes had found her at the door, unreadable but intense. She hadn't slept properly since.

One Week Later

The house buzzed with quiet urgency as preparations began for the return of Mr. Calloway, the head of the family. He had been away in Italy on business. Melody was assigned to help prepare the west wing bedrooms - a job reserved for only the most trusted maids.

"Don't speak unless spoken to. And don't touch anything personal," Mrs. Grant warned her.

Melody nodded, her cloth and bucket in hand, and began dusting a series of antique shelves outside Adrian's private study.

That's when she heard it again - the piano.

Low, steady notes spilled from the drawing room at the far end of the corridor. It was the same haunting melody she'd heard that night after her arrival. It felt like a memory set to music.

Unable to resist, she set her cloth down and quietly crept toward the sound.

---

In the Drawing Room

She peeked from behind the open door.

Adrian sat at the grand piano, bathed in late afternoon light. His jacket was off, sleeves rolled up, dark hair falling slightly into his face. His fingers moved like magic - slow, graceful, aching with emotion.

The room around him was silent. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.

He didn't see her.

Melody stepped back, guilt tugging at her curiosity. But before she could leave, the last note of the piece faded... and he looked up.

Their eyes met.

She froze, her breath caught in her throat.

Adrian said nothing - just stared at her with that same unreadable expression. Then, unexpectedly, he gave the faintest nod.

Not cold. Not angry. Just... acknowledgment.

Melody bowed her head quickly and turned away.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she hurried down the corridor.

Later That Night

Melody lay awake, staring at the ceiling of her tiny room.

Why had he nodded? Why hadn't he told her off - like before?

He was a puzzle she didn't want to solve... but couldn't stop thinking about.

For the first time in weeks, she reached for her mother's old rosary and held it against her chest. "Mama," she whispered. "I don't know what I've walked into, but it's nothing like I expected."

Outside, the wind rustled through the tall oaks surrounding the mansion.

And in the room far beyond the servant's quarters, Adrian Calloway sat at the piano again - playing the same tune, softer now.

As though someone had heard him...

And he didn't feel so alive.