She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 967

Helena hesitated.

"Play it for me," Morris repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Taking a deep breath, Helena sat down. She placed her fingers on the keys and began to play the sequence she had been struggling with all day.

Morris stood beside her, his fingers lightly tapping the edge of the piano in time with the music, until she abruptly stopped.

"What happened?" Morris asked. He could see the sheet music didn't end there.

Helena knew the next section was a disaster. She had rewritten that bridge a dozen times. Swain kept saying it sounded great, but she knew in her gut it lacked the necessary impact.

Morris leaned over her shoulder, his gaze locking onto the measure she had aggressively circled in pencil. Without a word, he reached past her, his hand brushing against her arm, and played a rapid sequence of arpeggios on the higher register of the keys.

The sudden, brilliant shift in the melody made Helena's eyes widen. *That's it!* her mind screamed. Instinct took over, and her fingers instantly chased his notes.

Her baseline rushed to meet his arpeggios. It sounded like two people arguing, challenging, and elevating each other. She didn't stop, pushing through the bridge, the melody growing more forceful, more resolute, until she hit the wall she'd been dreading.

Her hands hovered over the keys, paralyzed. She didn't know how to stick the landing.

Morris's hand reached down again.

This time, he struck a single, piercingly high note. It hung in the air like a solitary star over a sprawling, empty desert.

Helena stared at his finger for two seconds. Then her hands crashed down, catching the melody and dragging it into a long, resonant chord. It grounded the chaotic, frantic energy of the piece, mimicking a man who had sprinted to the absolute end of the road, collapsing into the sand, panting for breath as he finally looked up at the night sky.

Morris looked at her, his eyes flashing with genuine admiration. She truly was a prodigy. With just the slightest nudge, she had tapped directly into his wavelength, pulling the exact sound he had envisioned straight from his mind.

The final chord faded into silence.

Helena's breathing was erratic, a thin sheen of sweat glowing on her forehead. She had no idea how long they had been playing, or how those notes had even materialized.

Without saying a word to Morris, she frantically grabbed her pencil and began scribbling the improvisation onto the staff paper before she lost it.

Morris didn't interrupt. He stood quietly beside the piano, watching her work with a furious, breathless focus. His eyes mapped the intense lines of her face.

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