Nia ate half the banana. She wiped her hands carefully on a tissue from her bag, not on the burgundy cardigan. She thought of June saying wake me. She thought of Alvarez saying walk into the larger room. She thought of her mother singing bass notes in an empty corner. Then she stood up, because eleven-forty was a real time in a real building, and the prelude had already proven it could survive a wrong pedal and a woman's smile.
Inside the audition room the light was cooler. The ceilings were high. A long table held three people and a pitcher of water nobody had touched. Dr. Anita Shah, the harp instructor, had dark hair pinned up and the attentive stillness of a person who has heard every trick a nervous child can attempt. Mr. Louis Brenner, who ran the youth orchestra, tapped a pencil once and stopped, as if the tap had been a private mistake. The third judge, a community patron named Ellen Choi, smiled in a way that reached her eyes and did not become a speech. The concert harp — the same one, moved with care, or its twin from the studio; Nia did not ask — stood on a small rug. The bench waited, already out.
"Nia Cole?" Dr. Shah said.
"Yes, ma'am."
"You requested the house harp. Thank you for being clear on the form. What will you play?"
"The Prelude in C Major by Bach, and if there is time, Prière by Hasselmans."
"Both, if you can. Take a moment to set the pedals. The harp was just tuned. If anything feels different from what you practice on, adjust, then begin when you are ready. You don't need to explain your nerves. We can hear music without the program notes of anxiety."
Nia almost smiled. Dr. Shah sounded like Alvarez if Alvarez had been given a better radiator and the same standards. She sat. She set the pedals by feel and checked them with her eyes, not trusting the Eastbridge habit. The C sat where it should. The harp's column was cool. Her skirt pulled a little at the knee. She thought, briefly and absurdly, of the dish towel and the flats, and then she let the thought go, because it was not a note.
She began.