A man in a black suit walked over to her quickly. He had a name tag that said Manager. His face was not friendly.
"Excuse me," he said in a cold voice. "You cannot be in here. This is a nice restaurant. You need to leave now."
Maya felt her face get hot. Her hands were shaking, but she did not leave. "Please," she said quietly. "I just want to ask you something."
The manager crossed his arms. "What do you want?"
Maya pointed to the piano in the corner. "I can play music," she said. "Can I play your piano just for a little while? Maybe you could give me some food."
The manager stared at her. Then he started to laugh. It was not a nice laugh. Other people in the restaurant heard him and started laughing, too.
"You want to play piano for food?" the manager said loudly. "Like a street performer?"
Maya nodded. "Yes. I can play really well, I promise."
More people were laughing now. Maya heard someone say, "What's next? Is she going to dance for dessert?"
Another person said, "Call the police. Get her out of here."
Maya felt tears in her eyes, but she did not cry. She had learned not to cry when people were mean to her; crying made things worse.
The manager looked around the restaurant. All his customers were watching. Some looked entertained; they thought this was funny.