Chapter Text
A single melody fills the hallway of the Grand Paradiso long after the last of the guests from the evening dinner have left. Every note born from ivory keys floats into the air, carrying unsung words before fading into the darkness of the night.
Moira slides the door open then closes it firmly behind her.
The music stops and Krailert straightens his previously slumped shoulders as he looks over at her.
“Colonel,” Moira greets him. “From the news we received tonight, I thought you would have finally preferred to play the piano at home.”
She is met with silence. The room is dark but its windows are wide enough to let light in. Even the shadows can’t hide the way Krailert’s hands clench and unclench beneath the moonlight.
“No matter,” Moira continues as she approaches Krailert. She smiles while placing the tape recorder on top of the piano. “Your timing is perfect because I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately, Colonel.”
“Really? Is everything okay?” Genuine concern flashes through Krailert’s eyes.
“Yes,” Moira reassures, keeping her smile on because she has built a business on knowing people. The gentle ones will always opt to share your burdens without a regard for their own load. “But if you don’t mind helping, I really would appreciate it.”
“What can I do?” Krailert asks in a heartbeat.
“The song – “Beyond the Clouds,” right? I’ve heard it on the radio but I think it sounds much better when you play it on the piano,” Moira taps the tape recorder once. “Would you mind if I record you playing so that I can listen to it later, before I go to sleep?”
Krailert smiles up at her, though it barely reaches his eyes.
“Not at all.”
The last letter arrived over a month ago.
Moira fishes it out from one of her cabinets and places it on her desk. The paper is already tattered at the edges, but the writing is still clear.
I have found a place to stay thanks to friends who have also helped me find a job. Thank you for everything.
— N.
Moira gets a pad of branded writing stationary from the Grand Paradiso and a pen from her cabinet before setting both down beside the letter. She takes a seat and reads the messy handwriting over and over. The thought crosses her mind briefly, but it's enough to make her smile: those two are so different from each other, it's endearing. A few more minutes pass before she's finally able to decipher the address scribbled onto the letter, but she successfully copies it onto the piece of paper eventually.
Amazing! I hope you settle in well.
You know, I was a huge fan of your column. I know that you have already retired, but if you have the time maybe you could send me a review of this song.
I would love to hear what you think.
Warmest Regards,
Moira
Content with the short message she’s written, Moira folds the letter up and slips it into an envelope. Then, she encloses the envelope into a sturdy box, alongside two bubble wrapped audio tapes of the song “Beyond the Clouds” — one they play on the radio and the other recorded from the Grand Paradiso’s own piano.
Moira wraps the package up, jots down the same Washington DC address on the letter, and has one of her trusted staff mail it out.
She pours herself a drink after.