Chapter 7

Sophia had never heard Mr. Wellington speak with such intensity. She looked at the piano keys again; they seemed to be calling to her. At church, she had to share the piano with other people; she only got to practice for an hour at a time. But this piano was just sitting here waiting.She sat back down on the bench and thought about what to play. She decided on a piece by Mozart that Mrs. Chun had taught her last month. It was faster than the Chopin piece, more cheerful and bright.Her fingers began to move across the keys. The Mozart piece was like a conversation between her two hands: the left hand would play something and the right hand would answer, then they would play together in harmony. The music bounced and danced around the big room.As she played, Sophia forgot about everything else again: she forgot about the expensive furniture and the fancy decorations, and she forgot about being scared of breaking something. She just played.But she wasn't alone this time; other people were listening.Carmen, the cook who came in three days a week, had heard the music from the kitchen. She was standing in the doorway, her mouth open in surprise. She had worked in this house for five years and had never heard the piano played.James, the gardener, had come inside to get a drink of water; he stopped in the hallway when he heard the music. He was a big man with dirt under his fingernails, but he loved music; his grandmother had played piano in church when he was little.Even Maria had heard the music. She was upstairs, but the sound carried through the whole house. At first, she thought Mr. Wellington had turned on some classical music on his expensive sound system. But as she listened more carefully, she realized it was live piano playing, and it sounded familiar.Maria's heart started beating fast. She knew that playing style: she had heard it many times before late at night when Sophia practiced on their old electric keyboard with headphones on. But this was different—full and rich and powerful.Maria dropped her cleaning supplies and ran downstairs; she needed to see what was happening. When she got to the living room, she couldn't believe her eyes: her daughter was sitting at Mr. Wellington's piano, playing Mozart like she was born to do it. Her fingers moved with confidence and grace across the keys. The music was beautiful and perfect.But Maria was also terrified."Sophia!" she said loudly.The music stopped suddenly. Sophia spun around on the piano bench, her face white with fear."Mama—""What are you doing?! Get away from there right now!"Sophia started to stand up, but Mr. Wellington held up his hand. "Wait," he said. "Maria, it's okay. I asked her to play."

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