"I can't stay," Rinoa said, apologetically. "Not for long. I only came in to get warm. And ... and to hear the music again."

She'd lost the music box years ago. Maybe her father had put it away, finding it too painful to listen to. Maybe it had simply been packed in the wrong box.

Nonetheless, she sat down, bringing the music box onto her lap. "Where did you find this?"

Squall. She should be focusing on Squall.