Summer School Exclusive - Melody Marks

The conservatory had been closed for years, its glass panes dusty and its grand piano—legend said—tuned by a ghost. The town had stories about it: that the last director disappeared one winter and that the ivy kept secrets in its roots. Melody had learned to like places with histories; they felt like open books. On the first morning of class, the building's heavy doors sighed open as if they'd been waiting.