Other people in the cafe began to approach Maria. The woman in the fur coat who had been so mean before came over with tears in her eyes. "I am so sorry," she said. "I was wrong to judge you. Your music touched my heart."
The businessman who had called for security walked up to Maria and handed her a business card. "I work for a music company," he said. "We need to talk. You have incredible talent."
But Maria felt overwhelmed by all the attention. She was not used to people being kind to her. For so long, she had been invisible to the world. Now everyone wanted to talk to her, and she did not know what to do.
Jonathan knew he had to speak with Maria before she left. He stood up from his table and walked slowly toward her. He did not want to scare her, but he had to know the truth.
"Excuse me," Jonathan said gently. "My name is Jonathan Hayes. I write about music for The New York Times. Could I speak with you for just a moment?"
Maria looked at him with frightened eyes. She did not trust adults anymore. Too many people had hurt her or let her down. "I did not do anything wrong," she said. "I just played music."
"You did nothing wrong," Jonathan said quickly. "In fact, you did something wonderful. I have never heard anyone play piano like that. Where did you learn to play so beautifully?"
Maria's eyes filled with tears when she thought about her father. "My papa taught me," she said. "He was a very good piano player, but he died when I was 12 years old."
Jonathan's heart almost stopped. "What was your father's name?" he asked quietly.
"Victor," Maria said. "Victor Petrov. He used to play concerts all over the world, but then he got sick and could not travel anymore. We moved to a small town in Russia where he taught me to play."
Jonathan could not breathe. This was Victor Petrov's daughter. She was alive. The little girl who everyone thought had died was standing right in front of him, grown up and living on the streets of New York.
"How did you get to America?" Jonathan asked. "What happened to your mother?"