His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 646

“What?”

Niamh's murmur was so quiet that Preston didn't catch it.

“Nothing…”

Niamh shook her head.

An image surfaced in her mind: a boy at the juvenile rehab center, bruised and battered, resting his head on a desk. He was listening with his eyes closed as she played a Chopin nocturne for him, completely captivated.

Moonlight spilled onto the black and white keys of the electronic keyboard, giving them a glossy sheen.

The girl’s fingers were long and graceful, dancing over the keys.

Every note she played transformed into the budding love of a first crush, healing the boy’s wounds and warming his lonely heart.

The boy's long eyelashes, delicate as a butterfly's wings, fluttered, a blissful smile constantly playing on his lips.

“Master… Master?”

Linden waved a large hand in front of Niamh’s face, snapping her back to reality.

“What is it?”

“What were you spacing out about? What were you thinking of?”

Linden felt that the expression on Niamh’s face just now had been a mixture of nostalgia and sorrow.

“It’s nothing. It’s all in the past.”

Niamh composed herself.

One can't live in the past forever.

She had learned that lesson a long time ago.

“Master, can you listen to me play and tell me if I’ve improved over the years?”

Niamh couldn't help but laugh at Linden's request.

“Who am I to judge?”

Linden’s skill was far beyond anything she could critique.

“Wait, you play the piano too?”

Preston frowned.

Linden didn't answer Preston's question. Instead, he took Niamh’s place at the white grand piano.

He also played a Chopin nocturne.

“Holy crap!”

Preston was stunned.

This guy wasn't just 'able to play'; he was a virtuoso.

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