Back Home Part 3

Chapter 28: Back Home Part 3

"Rio," she whispered, "when did you learn to play like that?"

I stared at my hands, still resting on the keys. "I... I don't know," I admitted, a chill running down my spine. "I've never played that piece before. I've never even heard it before."

The room fell silent as we both grappled with what had just happened. First the strange visions and memories, and now this unexpected musical talent? It was as if I was discovering hidden parts of myself I never knew existed.

"Rio," Rhea said slowly, her voice filled with concern and curiosity, "what's going on with you?"

I looked up at her, feeling more lost and confused than ever. "I wish I knew, Rhea," I replied softly. "I really wish I knew."

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. The upcoming interview seemed trivial now compared to the mystery that was unfolding within me.

Rhea and I sat in stunned silence trying to process what had just happened, the front door opened. Dad walked in, his briefcase in hand and a surprised look on his face.

"I thought I heard music," he said, glancing between us. "Was that you playing, Rio? I don't think I've ever heard you tackle Liszt before."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could I explain something I didn't understand myself?

Rhea jumped in, her voice slightly shaky. "Dad, you won't believe what just happened. Rio just played 'La Campanella' perfectly, but he says he's never even heard it before."

Dad's eyebrows shot up. "Really? That's... unexpected." He set down his briefcase and approached the piano, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Rio, are you feeling alright?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "Honestly, Dad, I don't know. First the weird memories this morning, and now this... It's like there are parts of me I don't recognize."

As I tell my dad about my situation, I noticed Dad's face grew increasingly pale. When I finished, he exchanged a significant look with Rhea.

Dad sat down next to me on the piano bench, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"What?" I asked, looking between them. "Do you know something about this?"

Dad sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Rio, there's something your mother and I have been meaning to tell you. We were waiting for the right time, but it seems like we can't put it off any longer."

My heart began to race. "Tell me what?"

"You're adopted," Dad said softly. 

"I'm adopted!?" :⁠0

"Yes, we found you when you were about five years old. You had no memory of your past, and we could never trace your origins. We've loved you as our own from the moment we took you in, but..."

"But what?" I pressed, my mind reeling from this revelation.

"But you've always been... different," Rhea chimed in. "Brilliant beyond your years, with knowledge and skills that seemed to come out of nowhere. Like this piano performance just now."

I sat there, stunned. The world seemed to tilt on its axis as I tried to process this information. Suddenly, the strange visions, the name Edea, the inexplicable piano skills – they all took on a new significance.

"So, who am I really?" I whispered, more to myself than to them.

Dad squeezed my shoulder. "You're our son, Rio. That hasn't changed. But as for your origins... that's something we've never been able to uncover. We were hoping that as you grew older, you might remember something."

As the weight of this revelation settled over me, a new thought occurred to me. "The interview," I said slowly. "Do you think... could it have something to do with my past?"

Dad and Rhea exchanged another look. "It's possible," Dad admitted. "The timing of these memories resurfacing, and now this unexpected musical talent... it does seem connected."

I stood up abruptly, my mind racing with possibilities. "I need to go to that interview. Not just for the school, but for answers. Whatever my past is, I think PIUT might be the key to unlocking it."

As my family nodded in agreement, I felt a mix of excitement and apprehension wash over me. The mystery of my identity loomed large, but for the first time, I felt like I was on the verge of uncovering the truth.

Little did I know, the revelations of that day were just the beginning of a journey that would challenge everything I thought I knew about myself and the world around me.

***

Over the next few days, my life took on a surreal quality as I balanced my usual routine with an intense focus on honing my newfound piano skills. Each morning, I'd wake up early, my mind still reeling from vivid dreams of unfamiliar landscapes and mysterious figures.

After a quick breakfast, I'd spend an hour at the piano before school, my fingers dancing across the keys with a fluency that still amazed me. Classical pieces I'd never studied before flowed from my hands as if I'd been practicing them for years.

At school, I tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was living a double life. My friends noticed my distraction, attributing it to nerves about the upcoming PIUT interview. If only they knew the real reason for my preoccupation.

"Earth to Rio," my friend said, waving a hand in front of my face during lunch. "You in there, buddy? Or are you mentally preparing your PIUT acceptance speech already?"

I'd laugh it off, steering the conversation back to safer topics like upcoming exams or the latest school gossip. But inside, my mind was always partially elsewhere, grappling with questions about my true identity and the significance of my resurfaced abilities.

After school, I'd rush home to practice more. The piano became my refuge, a place where I could explore this newly awakened part of myself. I worked through increasingly complex pieces - Chopin's nocturnes, Rachmaninoff's concertos, Bach's fugues - each one unlocking new sensations.

One evening, as I was working through a particularly challenging Beethoven sonata, my mom stood in the doorway, listening with tears in her eyes.

"You play so beautifully," she said softly. "It's like you were born to do this."

Her words hit me harder than she probably intended. Born to do this. But where was I born? Who were my birth parents? The questions swirled in my mind, but I pushed them aside, offering her a smile instead.

"Thanks, Mom. I'm just trying to be prepared for whatever PIUT might throw at me."

As the days passed, my family tried their best to support me while grappling with their own emotions about the situation. Dad would often sit with me in the evenings, listening to me play and sharing stories about when they first adopted me. Rhea, meanwhile, took it upon herself to help me prepare for other aspects of the interview, peppering me with potential questions over dinner.

"What if they ask you about your greatest weakness?" she'd query, fork poised midair.

"I'd tell them it's my insatiable curiosity," I'd reply with a smirk. "The very thing that's driving me crazy right now."

As the interview date drew nearer, my piano skills continued to improve at an astonishing rate. I found myself able to sight-read complex scores and even begin composing my own pieces. Each new musical discovery felt like a key turning in a lock, edging me closer to unlocking the secrets of my past.