Multi-Generational Fiction
Blue Smoke Gold Light
Malcolm Inveraray
The Driver’s Son The first rule in the Carr house was that music was never background. It mattered even when it came from the radio in the kitchen, even when it leaked in broken pieces from Ronan Carr’s study, even when it was only Eliza humming through her teeth because she had been told, twice already, to stop touching the piano with jam on her fingers. Music was not decoration.