CHAPTER 8: TIME FOR MY ENTRANCE

KEVAH'S POV

I drive up to the five-bedroom house I grew up in and I blow out a weary breath, praising the good lord that Arlene got me here in one piece. I propose having her serviced when I save enough money. I am planning on giving up my apartment downtown and staying here for the summer which will grant me an excellent opportunity to tell mama my secret.

I can hear her scolding me now.

But I am 22 years old; a woman who lives by her own rules and dances to the beat of her own drum.

I snatch the key from the ignition and establish my way inside the house.

My childhood memories come flooding me. The grand piano is in the same spot before the monumental double French windows. I remember that one time when Adrian was performing his rendition of Beethoven's Symphony and I became so enraptured in the melody's beauty that I started to hum, Adrian's head drifted to 10-year-old me, and he signalled me to sit by him. He instructed me to sing my favourite song, which was and still is Christ