He shook his head, smiled against her hair. “For the dock. Later. If you’re free.”

Rosa looked up, mascara smudged. “I don’t know how to feel the music anymore. Liam said my runs were ‘emotionally inefficient.’ He told me to stick to the sheet music.”

But when the last note faded and the campers rushed the stage in a group hug, Mitchie looked at Shane. He was watching her the way he had the first summer—like she’d just played something he’d been waiting his whole life to hear.

When she finished, Shane stood up and clapped. Then Tess. Then the whole camp. Rosa looked at Mitchie, and Mitchie mouthed two words: That’s music.

“What?” she said.

“For the camp?”