There’s a hall in every town that used to be full of music.
Ours is called The Paradise.
Now it’s empty. Locked. Forgotten.
But some nights, you can hear a band playing inside.
Old songs. Perfectly played.
And when someone dies in the town…
the music draws a crowd you can’t see.
If you pass by, don’t stop.
Don’t look in.
It’s not for you.