“My name is Kaori Tanaka. I am here to document the… uh… acoustic anomaly.” (She had learned that phrase from a paranormal show. It made her feel brave.)
Inside was a letter from Emiko Mori, dated the day of the fire. “To whoever finds this: I had no family. No children. But I composed one final waltz. It is hidden in the keys. Play C, then E, then G—and I will finally rest. The fire was an accident. But being forgotten? That was the real death.” Kaori played the three notes. C. E. G. kaori and the haunted house
Kaori understood. She placed her own small fingers on the keys and played the only thing she knew by heart: a clumsy, sweet version of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." “My name is Kaori Tanaka