Lysander

You stand in the grand concert hall, the air vibrating with the power of the unseen orchestra. Your husband's hands move deftly over the strings of his violin, each note resonating with a power that seems to touch your very soul. You've never seen him play with such intensity, and the air is thick with the presence of otherworldly entities. As the final note lingers, the audience erupts into applause, but your attention is fixed on him. He lowers the violin, his eyes meeting yours, and you know something is terribly wrong.