Chapter 17
My audition for the city youth orchestra was the week after the adoption hearing.
I almost laughed at the timing.
Our life never allowed one big emotion at a time.
Mrs. Bell said that was good training for music.
I told her she was becoming annoying like a real coach.
She said, “Thank you.”
The audition hall was smaller than I expected.
Three judges.
One chair.
One music stand.
No dramatic lights.
No applause.
That made it worse.
I walked in with my violin and tried not to think of the broken one.
Clara Mendel sat in the middle.
She gave me one sharp nod.
“Begin.”
So I did.
The first piece went well.
The second was harder.
My fingers slipped once.
My stomach dropped.
I kept going.
Then they asked for sight reading.
A page I had never seen.
Fast.
Cruel.
Full of traps.
For one second, panic opened its mouth.
Then I heard my mother’s voice in memory.
Trust the air.
I played.
Not perfectly.
Honestly.
When I finished, Clara made no expression.
“Thank you, Amelia.”
That was all.
Outside, my father stood.
Harper held a painting wrapped in brown paper.
“For after,” she said.
“What if I failed?”
“Then still after.”
I hugged her.
The results came by email three days later.
I was afraid to open it.
My father, Harper, Mrs. Bell, and even Dominic gathered in the kitchen.
Dominic said he was there for legal support.
He brought pastries again.
I clicked the email.
Accepted.
For a second, I could not read anything else.
Accepted.
Accepted.
Accepted.
I screamed.
Harper screamed louder.
My father covered his face.
Mrs. Bell cried openly.
Dominic said, “I object to how emotional this kitchen is.”
We all laughed.
Then Harper gave me the painting.
It showed two girls on a stage.
One with a violin.
One holding a brush.
Behind them stood a woman made of golden light.
My mother.
May you like
I pressed the painting to my chest.
For once, happiness did not feel dangerous.
