Jack shifted the strap of his navy backpack. "I'm not experimenting."
From an inner pocket of the backpack he drew a cream-colored card, slightly bent at one corner, and held it out with both hands the way a person might present a passport at a border. Principal Harrison took it. The print was neat and official:
JACK
FINAL PIANO SCHOLARSHIP AUDITION
and beneath that, a number that made Harrison look at the boy again as if seeing him for the first time.
"You made the final round?" Principal Harrison asked, and there was more surprise in the question than he intended to show.
Before Jack could answer, a woman in a black dress crossed the lobby with the quick, purposeful stride of someone who had been searching and had just found what she needed. Ms. Blake's chestnut hair was pinned back with a single silver clip. She was about forty-five, head of piano at the academy, and her presence had a way of quieting rooms without raising her voice.
"Jack, we've been looking for you," she said. Then, to Principal Harrison, with a professional calm that left little room for argument: "He's next." She looked at Jack and softened. "You can warm up here before we go inside."