The cream card for the final round came six weeks later.
---
Now, in the audition wing of Westbridge, Jack waited outside Chamber B while a girl with perfect posture finished her Bach. Through the door he could hear the clipped clarity of a well-coached Invention, every voice obedient, every ornament placed like silverware at a formal dinner. When she emerged, her mother whispered congratulations too loudly. The girl looked neither triumphant nor relieved. She looked emptied, as if the music had borrowed her for three minutes and returned her slightly smaller.
Ms. Blake touched Jack's shoulder again. "When you go in, you may take a moment. Don't rush the first measure because the room feels expensive."
Jack almost smiled. "Mr. Delgado said the same thing, except he said 'don't rush because rich people make you nervous.'"
"Mr. Delgado and I have never met," Ms. Blake said, "and yet I suspect we would get along."
Principal Harrison arrived then, as if summoned by the mention of nerves. He stood near the wall with the expression of a man attending an event he had not planned to attend. Ms. Blake noticed him and did not comment. Jack noticed him and nodded once, politely, as if acknowledging a neighbor.
The door opened.