She reached up to press a hand to his cheek. The beard still felt both strange and right all at the same time, much the way Greg himself did these days. Things were very different, but here especially, she could see who he was far more clearly than any physical form, young or older, could obscure or highlight.

"Remember," she said, gently. "The music is yours. It has done magnificent things in the past, and it will do so again. Remember who you are, and no one can take away anything from you."