I found the headphone cord trailing on the floorboards, completely unplugged. Yet she sits by the parlor window for hours, slowly swaying in that wooden rocking chair with the musical notes carved into the backrest. When I finally asked her what she was listening to in the dark, she just lifted one finger and pointed to the glass. "The storm," she whispered. The unsettling part wasn't her blank expressionβit was the fact that it hadn't started raining until ten minutes after she put them on.