Invisible Strings

Chapter 2: The Quiet Orbit

The following morning, Isadora lingered at her desk longer than usual, shuffling through lesson plans. She told herself it was just routine, but her thoughts drifted toward the back row before class even began. Would Hannah vanish into her seat again, trying to disappear among the others?

When the door creaked open, students filtered in with their usual noise. Hannah slipped through almost unnoticed, her presence a blur in the corner of Isadora's eye. She hesitated near the back, bag clutched tightly, before her gaze flicked toward the front.

Isadora caught it. Barely, but enough. A silent question. Permission.

"Good morning, Hannah," Isadora said gently, her voice carrying just enough to reach her. The girl froze as if she had never been seen so easily before. The class separated into their duos as yesterday. Isadora nodded at the piano seat to Hannah as she walked over to it herself. Hannah straightened her bag onto her shoulder and made her way up to the front herself.

Throughout the lesson, Hannah spoke very little. She copied notes diligently, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. But every so often, when she thought no one was looking, her eyes drifted to Isadora—not with the curiosity of a student, but with something deeper. A quiet orbit formed, as though she had already chosen her anchor.

When class ended, most students rushed for the door, their voices a blur of laughter and chatter. Hannah stayed seated until the room emptied, then rose slowly. She stood at the edge of the desk, not vanishing this time, just... waiting.

Isadora looked up from gathering her papers. "Hello, you," Isadora said warmly, making Hannah smile a little.

"Hello, yourself," Hannah said, her personality almost showing, making Isadora feel like she was finally getting this girl to shine a little. Even if it was going to take some time.

Isadora walked over and leaned against the piano. "What's up?" She said as if they were friends, as if there was no awkwardness between them, trying to make Hannah feel as safe as possible.

"I was practicing a little bit of my piece last night... I don't really know how to write notes, but I was wondering if you could help me write it out if I played it?" Hannah asked with a quiet but almost confident tone. Preparing herself for rejection.

Isadora's expression softened. "Of course I'll help you," she said without hesitation. "That's what I'm here for."

The relief on Hannah's face was subtle, but it was there. The slightest loosening of her shoulders, the faintest exhale. She relaxed slightly, her outline shimmering faintly as if her nerves might unravel her at any moment. But she stayed visible, fingers already ghosting over the keys.

"Play what you have," Isadora encouraged, pulling a sheet of blank staff paper from her drawer and sitting nearby. "I'll catch the notes."

Hannah nodded, swallowed hard, and began. The melody was simple but haunting, a little rough around the edges, but it had shape, heart. Every note felt like a piece of her... Shy, halting, yet beautiful in its rawness.

Isadora scribbled as she listened, marking notes and rests. But she didn't just hear the music... she saw the way Hannah leaned into it, eyes closed, almost fading from sight with each uncertain melody. As though the act of sharing her song made her want to disappear. She could tell there was more to this music than just notes. Hannah felt it was beautiful. There was a story to tell.

When the final note lingered in the air, Hannah opened her eyes cautiously, as if bracing for critique.

Isadora smiled. "You have an ear for this. Truly. All we need to do is give your music a home on paper. And maybe a name?"

Hannah blinked, stunned for a moment. Then there it was again. That tiny smile. Fragile, fleeting, but real. Real and proud.

And for the first time, Hannah didn't vanish. "A name?"

"Mhm," Isadora hummed warmly. "Every piece needs a name. Especially when it's an assignment due..." She smirked and nudged Hannah with her shoulder. "You still have time to think of that, though. And to fix up the tough edges, but it's very good. I'm very proud of you, Hannah." Isadora said softly, tilting her head down a little to make sure Hnnah heard her words.

Hannah ducked her head, hair falling slightly in front of her face, but not enough to hide the pink blooming across her cheeks. "No one's ever... said that to me before," she whispered, her fingers still resting lightly on the keys.

Isadora's heart tugged. She wanted to reach out, just to brush Hannah's hand, reassure her, but she stayed still, careful not to scare her away. "Then I'll say it again," she replied softly. "You should be proud of yourself. You deserve to be."

For a moment, silence lingered between them, filled only by the faint ticking of the classroom clock and the weight of words Hannah wasn't used to hearing. Slowly, she nodded, her outline steady, her presence solid.

"I'll... think of a name," Hannah murmured, almost to herself, but her lips curved into that small, secret smile once more.

Isadora closed her notebook, setting it gently on the piano. "Good. And when you're ready, I'd love to hear it again."

The bell rang distantly in the hall, but Hannah didn't jump up right away this time. She lingered, fingertips gliding over the smooth ivory keys, as though she wanted the moment to last a little longer. Only when the noise of students passing grew louder did she finally stand, sliding her bag over her shoulder.

At the doorway, she paused. Looked back. Met Isadora's eyes for just a second longer than she had yesterday.

And then she slipped into the hall, vanishing once again.