The Girl In The Cello Case

Summary

The darkness and the scent of aged pine. That is the last thing I remember of this world.

That night, I woke up shivering from a nightmare, crying out for my mother. Instead of a hug, she ushered me into the velvet-lined darkness of her cello case and latched the lid.

The signs had been there for a while, I suppose. It started on my fourth birthday. That was the first time she snapped—all because of the clatter of a stray toy hitting the hardwood floor.

My mother was a celebrated musician. Her fingers could coax the most divine melodies from the strings, but that genius came with a price…