?Chapter 827:
Milton’s thoughtfulness showed in small, quiet gestures. He adjusted the air conditioning until the temperature was just right. Then, he switched on the music.
A soft and familiar tune filled the car. Elliana’s eyes drifted from the window to him, surprise written across her face. He had chosen her favorite song. It was “Breeze Through My Hair,” a timeless track with a melody that wrapped around her like a warm nket.
The song had been popr more than twenty years ago. These days, it was rare to hear it at all. She never expected it to y here, in his car. Could this be it? The unspoken connection of family?
“Not really into the old stuff?” Milton asked, noticing her expression as he nced her way. “Sorry. I’m still learning about you. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Milton tapped the console screen. “Go ahead. Pick whatever you want. If you like it, I’m sure I will too.”
Elliana’s lips curved into a slow, genuine smile. “Actually, my favorite song is ‘Breeze Through My Hair.''”<fnf18b> Read full story at FindN0vel</fnf18b>
He looked at her in mild surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” she said with a small nod. “When I was little, Mom would y it every night to help me fall asleep. That song is pretty much the soundtrack of my childhood. It might sound old-fashioned now, but it’s still the one I love most.”
For her, the melody carried more than just notes. It carried the scent of her mother’s perfume and the warmth of her embrace. Whenever she missed her mother, she would close herself off in her room and put it on repeat. She would lie back with her eyes shut, softly humming along, and the image of her mother woulde to her so clearly that it felt like she was there again, singing her to sleep.
That song wasn’t just music. It wasfort. It was light in the darker moments, and it was the strength that helped her keep moving forward.
As the first notes of “Breeze Through My Hair” floated through the car, the sound painted her mother in her mind—graceful, kind, wise, and endlessly patient.
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“Same here,” Milton said quietly.
The traffic light ahead flicked to red, and he slowed the car to a gentle stop.
With the engine idling, he turned toward her, his gaze warm and steady. “Mom sang it to me too,” he said. “When I was little, that was the song she used to help me fall asleep.”
For him, every chord carried its own memory. He could almost smell her faint,forting scent as the melody wrapped around him. The song felt like a portrait of her, drawn in sound instead of ink.
A small, knowing smile passed between the siblings. They didn’t need to say anything else. The feeling that bound them was something no words could capture. It was a connection that could only be understood, not exined.
The light shifted to green, and Milton pressed down on the elerator. The car rolled forward, carrying them farther down the road.
The music kept ying. “A soft wind tangles my hair and the morning carries a fresh spring smell…”
Elliana’s lips moved with the melody as she began to hum in a quiet, steady rhythm.
Before long, Milton’s lower, richer voice joined hers.
Together, their voices blended in harmony, and the song painted the same picture in both their minds—a vision of a gentle, beautiful woman brought to life by the melody.
.
.
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