fix: integrating edits for chapter three

chapters/chapter-03.md

@@ -9,9 +9,11 @@ teaser: >
 
 > No one understands the mystical connection formed during that first note played by a musician on a new instrument. --- *Tears of the Broken Harp* (Act 2, Scene 8)
 
-The rain hammered down on Linsan's wide-brimmed hat. The force was enough to create a stream of water pouring down her back. Her soaked hair and backpack weighted down on her shoulders after her half hour walk from school.
+The rain hammered down on Linsan's wide-brimmed hat. The force was enough to create a stream of water pouring down her back. Her soaked hair and backpack weighed down on her shoulders after her half hour walk from school.
 
-When she opened the front door, a blast of warmth brought the smells of her mother's perfume and the familiar scents of their century-old home.
+When her fourteenth birthday was rained out, she wasn't expecting it to keep raining for a week. She was already feeling anxious because she wasn't able to visit the family's valley. She had been doing it five years since the fire.
+
+Dragging her thoughts back to the present, she opened the front door, a blast of warmth brought the smells of her mother's perfume and the familiar scents of their century-old home.
 
 Slipping her hat off, she stepped across the threshold. With a hard flick, she threw the water off the brim before bringing it inside and tossing it on a low shelf near the shoes. Her soaked coat and boots followed after that. "I'm home, Daddy!"
 
@@ -21,7 +23,7 @@ With a sigh, she set the book back into the box. Looking around, she considered
 
 Her father's office was on the other side of the faded rug. There used to be a couch there, but a few too many leaps from one end to the other had destroyed it and they had to get rid of it a few years ago. In their place, four padded library chairs were arranged in a semicircle facing the old fireplace.
 
-Sian sat with his back to her. His shoulders were hunched over his desk, the four old magical lanterns lit up the camped room in brilliants. The light shone on the stacks of newspapers, essays, and books that surrounded him. Even from the next room over, she could hear the slow but steady click of his new typewriter. It was the only major purchase he had made in four years and even then he railed about it every dinner.
+Sian sat with his back to her. His shoulders were hunched over his desk. The four old magical lanterns lit up the camped room in brilliants. The light shone on the stacks of newspapers, essays, and books that surrounded him. Even from the next room over, she could hear the slow but steady click of his new typewriter. It was the only major purchase he had made since the fire and even then he fretted about the expense for months.
 
 She padded across the living room and came up to his side. Resting one hand on his shoulder, she leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I'm home."
 
@@ -33,9 +35,9 @@ He looked again and then made a low grunt. "That explains why my joints hurt."
 
 Sian finally turned to her and smiled. "Rain doesn't usually stop you from stopping by...." The words faded from his lips and a sad look darkened his gaze. He sighed. "I need to work for another hour or so, can you entertain yourself?"
 
-Linsan kissed her father's cheek again. "Any news from mother?"
+Linsan kissed her father's cheek again. "Any news from Mother?"
 
-"Any minute now, she was heading out of Canton at sunrise." His voice sounded wistful for a moment but then he glanced at the papers and the joy faded.
+"Any minute now. She was heading out of Canton at sunrise." His voice sounded wistful for a moment but then he glanced at the papers and the joy faded.
 
 She grinned. "That mean you are going to take those boxes into the attic before she notices? You know she hates seeing clutter after traveling all day."
 
@@ -53,7 +55,7 @@ The memories were faded and blurred, the images already lost even though it was
 
 She sighed and patted his shoulder again before heading to the stairs and grabbing the boxes. Fortunately, they were light and she managed to stagger up the stairs to the second floor and over to the hall where the chain for the attic dangled from the ceiling.
 
-By the time she managed to get the boxes up the ladder into the attic, she was sweating from the effort. She stopped to catch her breath and peered around at the tightly-packed room. There were chests and boxes.
+By the time she managed to get the boxes up the ladder and into the attic, she was sweating from the effort. She stopped to catch her breath and peered around at the tightly-packed room. There were chests and boxes.
 
 She took a deep breath.
 
@@ -61,7 +63,7 @@ When she caught a familiar smell, she froze. Underneath the dust and mold, there
 
 Curious, she sniffed and circled the empty space until she found where the smells were stronger. The sharp scent, even after years of storage, brought back a rush of memories and she could almost picture her father's workshop before it had been stripped down.
 
-A desperate need rose up and she grabbed the boxes and pulled the aside to try find the source. She peered into boxes as she did, a swarm of fond memories crashing into her thoughts as she recognized paintings that had been mounted on the walls. One of them was of Sian, her mother, and herself. It was a portrait set in front of the forest with him playing his violin as her mother and she danced around him.
+A desperate need rose up and she grabbed the boxes and pulled them aside to try find the source. She peered into boxes as she did, a swarm of fond memories crashing into her thoughts as she recognized paintings that had been mounted on the walls. One of them was of Sian, her mother, and herself. It was a portrait set in front of the forest with him playing his violin as her mother and she danced around him.
 
 Linsan remembered that day. She rubbed her eyes as she stroked her finger along her parent's faces. They were both smiling in that picture; her mother still smiled but some of the joy had faded from both of their eyes.
 
@@ -87,17 +89,17 @@ It was a beautiful violin. Untouched by dust and flame, it shone even in the dim
 
 The neck was smooth, designed for playing. The scroll at the top, on the other hand, was an intricate whorl of wood and carved lace. Marin's name had been carved in one side and "Palisis" on the other.
 
-Linsan stared in shock and longing. It had been a long time since she heard a violin in her life. After the fire, music had disappeared in a single moment. More tears ran down her cheeks as she ran her fingers along the strings. They were loose but it only took a few twists of the keys to tighten them.
+Linsan stared in shock and longing. It had been a long time since she heard a violin in her life. After the fire, her father had tried to continue her lessons but both of them had given up after only a few months. More tears ran down her cheeks as she ran her fingers along the strings. They were loose but it only took a few twists to tighten them.
 
 In that moment, she wished she knew how to play. Only a few hours lesson wasn't enough, but the need to hear her lost past sing again overwhelmed her.
 
-With a delicate flick of her finger, she strummed along the strings. They were all off but she almost remembered what they were supposed to sound like. She twisted the keys a few times and strummed again, working from memory as she brought it closer in tune.
+With a delicate flick of her finger, she strummed along the strings. They were all off but she almost remembered what they were supposed to sound like. Using her fingers, she pried it out of the case enough to twist one of the keys. When she flicked the string, it sounded even worse and she turned the tuning peg in the opposite direction until it sounded better. Working from memory of what the violin should sound like, she adjusted the other strings until they were closer in tune.
 
 Her father would know exactly how to make it sound right but it was close enough for her.
 
 With a trembling hand, she pulled out the violin and rested it on her shoulder. Pressing her chin against the rest, she brought her arm out to where she thought she remembered from her lessons.
 
-There was a matching box in the box. It took her a moment to pry it out. The hair was also loose. She had to put the violin to tighten them and then another moment to get everything back up against her chin and shoulder.
+There was a matching bow in the box. It took her a moment to pry it out. The hair was also loose. She had to put the violin down to tighten them and then another moment to get everything back up against her chin and shoulder.
 
 Holding her breath, she brought the bow to the strings and let the hairs rest against the strings.
 
@@ -109,7 +111,7 @@ The bow came out and the purest, richest tone rose up from the violin. She let o
 
 Linsan couldn't remember where the lessons had stopped but she knew the music. She closed her eyes and swayed as she worked her way slowly through the entire song.
 
-With the last tone, she held her breath until the last of the vibrations faded. Then, with tears drying on her cheeks, she carefully loosened the strings and hairs and carefully packed the violin back into it's case.
+With the last tone, she held her breath until the last of the vibrations faded. Then, with tears drying on her cheeks, she carefully loosened the strings and hairs and carefully packed the violin back into its case.
 
 Then she noticed two letters, one written to Marin and one to Sian, her father. She ran her finger over the wrinkled, aged paper but didn't open then. Carefully, she closed the box and buried it again.
 
@@ -133,9 +135,9 @@ Linsan blushed. "Sorry."
 
 "It was just wonderful to hear your father's work again." Her voice turned into a whisper. "If your father is upset, I'll explain later. That was Marin's instrument but she never had a chance to play it."
 
-Linsan gasped and looked down at her father. There was a tradition that the first musician to play an instrument had a special bond. She never thought she would be the first one. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't---"
+Linsan gasped and looked down at her father. There was a tradition that the first musician to play an instrument would forever have a special bond with it. She never thought she would be the first one. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't---"
 
-Sian shook his head. "I should have taken that over to the safe deposit box." His voice was cracked and broken. He shook his head. "It's too late note."
+Sian shook his head. "I should have taken that over to the safe deposit box." His voice was cracked and broken. He shook his head. "It's too late now."
 
 Her mother cleared her throat. "No one has to know that it has been played."
 
@@ -153,10 +155,10 @@ Tisin winked. "We'll just write a little note that it hasn't been played before.
 
 It felt crass to put a price on the last instrument her father had made but she knew that they had already lost so much since the fire. She sniffed and wiped her tears away. "Who's Marin?"
 
-"My first wife. She married your father's second when you were young."
+"My wife... from my first marriage. She married your father's first wife when you were young."
 
 Linsan froze as she stared at her mother in shock.
 
 Tisin smiled and drew up to her full height. She still had some of her makeup on and Linsan could see a hint of the grand lady who dominated the stages for years. Her pale skin was ethereal, her gaze hovering right at the point of being playful and evil.
 
-Then, her mother almost floated down the stairs, leaving Linsan along to struggle with the sudden change in her understanding her parents.
+Then, her mother almost floated down the stairs, leaving Linsan along to struggle with the sudden change in understanding her parents.