Page 114 of Symphony of Salvation

In December, I’d told Koa the school was looking to replace me—I’d been saying it for years—but he’d claimed I was paranoid. An earthquake shook my core and radiated along my limbs. Bile climbed my throat. I was going to be sick. It wasn’t shock upsetting my system. How could it be when I’d foreseen this moment for years? Devastation, however, made breathing difficult.

I set the contract down and backed away like it had bitten me. The lack of a signature on the final page was a small consolation. For all I knew, it was a copy meant for August’s records, and the real contract was in a new file in Dr. McCaine’s office, signed in black permanent ink.

I spun twice, trying to get my bearings. My scrambled brain struggled to process. When my phone vibrated with an incoming call, I startled.

August’s name filled the screen. I cleared my throat—twice—to ensure my voice didn’t croak upon answering. “Hey. Where are you?”

“At the lake. Sorry I missed your texts. I was on the phone when you messaged.” The long pause conveyed its own troubling conversation. “Come sit with me.” Was that anguish? I couldn’t tell.

“Um… sure. Did you get ahold of Constance?”

“Yes. She said you gave her permission to go to some café with a group of kids, then out for dinner?”

“Yes. With Tania. She’s an activity coordinator. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s good for her. Thank you.” Another extensive pause. “Where are you? Have you gone home already?”

“No.” I glanced around the cottage, at August’s secret symphony on the piano rack, then to the unsigned contract on the dining room table. I could lie, pretend I’d seen nothing, pretend I was still in the classroom, marking papers, but to what purpose?

“I’m at your place. I was looking for you. The door was open.”

“Oh.” Silence. “Come find me at the lake. We need to talk.”

As I hung up, a chill shivered along my spine.Talk. No word had ever sounded so daunting, so ominous.

“It’s to do with you,” I said to the unsigned contract. Only two scenarios presented themselves, neither favorable. August either took the teaching position, leaving me displaced, or he returned to Chicago and his coveted first chair.

I found August seated on a boulder by the water’s edge, staring across the glistening lake, lost in thought. The high color in his cheeks and the rosy tint to his nose suggested he’d been there a long time. Spring might be lingering around the corner, but a winter bite still hung in the air.

A branch snapped underfoot as I approached, alerting him to my arrival. His welcoming smile seemed free from strain, but I didn’t trust it. August prided himself in a well-honed stage face.

“Aren’t you cold?” I balanced along the rocky border until I landed on the boulder he occupied.

He shuffled over so I could join him. “My backside is frozen, I can’t feel my fingers, and I’m in desperate need of a tissue, but the view is too beautiful to leave. It’s quiet out here. Peaceful. A person could get used to this.”

I settled beside him, close enough that we touched along one side. From my coat pocket, I extracted a travel pack of Kleenex. August thanked me graciously.

Nothing stirred in the lakeside vista. No animals, no birds, and not a single jumping fish. The tranquility was serene, fantastical in a way I’d never considered. Winter gave the impression of freezing time. Crystalizing moments. Holding them in stasis. But the future, dormant beneath its icy layers, could only be restrained for so long. The sun would melt the snow, and life would continue as it always did.

August and I had formed our relationship throughout the winter. It existed in that stopped time. But spring was near, and the fantasy would melt and be gone. Nothing good in life ever lasted. Koa’s niggling voice in my head whispered,I’ve been telling you that for years.

“You didn’t return this afternoon.” My voice conveyed a strength I didn’t feel.

“No… Too much on my mind.”

“What did Dr. McCaine want?”

August didn’t speak for several minutes, squinting into the distance as though searching for a future still trapped in winter’s grasp. Was it as impossible for him to see as it was for me? Did he feel the dissolution of our relationship too?

“Do you know there’s a loophole in your contract?”

It was my turn for silence. “Yes.”

August turned to face me. “Why did you allow for that?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes and scanned the meandering lake to where it bent out of sight, wishing for a distraction. “They didn’t give me a choice. They bent the rules hiring me. It’s in their handbook that Timber Creek Academy strictly hires teachers who hold a doctorate degree of education. I hold a master’s, but they couldn’t find anyone better to fill the position at the time, and they were desperate. When I applied, figuring I wouldn’t get it based on a lack of qualifications, they offered me the job on the condition that should they find someone more suitable in the future, I would be replaced.”

“And you agreed?”

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