"When you can?" An elegant older woman approaches, her diamond necklace catching the light. "On this piano?"
"No, ma'am." Elsa's voice drops further. "I don't have regular access to a piano."
This revelation sends another ripple of murmurs through the crowd. Judge Montgomery's expression shifts from amazement to something more complex: a recognition of tragedy narrowly averted, of talent nearly lost.
"What's your name?" he asks.
"Elsa. Elsa Martinez."
Victoria steps forward at last, her social mask firmly back in place. "Judge Montgomery. While this impromptu performance was certainly unexpected, we should return to the competition at hand. The scholarship—"
"The competition is over, Mrs. Harrington." Montgomery's tone brooks no argument. "We've just witnessed the clear winner."
Sebastian pushes through the crowd, his face flushed. "That's not fair! She wasn't even registered. I've been preparing for months!"
"Years of private lessons, conservatory training, and the finest instructors money can buy," Montgomery observes dryly, "versus raw talent without a piano to practice on. Which is more impressive, young man?"
The foundation board members nod in agreement, already seeing the publicity value in Elsa's story: the hidden prodigy discovered in their midst. Cameras flash as society photographers capture the moment.
"I'd like to offer you not just the Harrington scholarship," Montgomery continues, addressing Elsa directly, "but personal mentorship. Your technique needs refinement, but your innate musicality..." He shakes his head in wonder. "I haven't heard such natural expression since—"