Dr. Holloway had been standing still this whole time, listening. Now he spoke, his voice rough with emotion.
"Why this audition?" he asked. "Why today? What made you decide to come?"
Maya thought about the question. "I saw the notice at the library three weeks ago. I almost did not come. I thought, What is the point? I have no training. I have no connections. I have nothing except the music in my head. Why would they ever accept someone like me?" She paused. "But then I thought about my father. I thought about the promise I made to him. I thought about all the hours he spent teaching me, all the sacrifices he made. And I knew that if I did not try, if I did not at least walk through those doors and play, I would be breaking my promise. I would be giving up on everything he believed in."
She met Dr. Holloway's eyes.
"So I came. I wore the nicest dress I own, even though I know it is not very nice. I brought my sheet music, even though it is old and falling apart. And I sat in the waiting hall with all those other people—the ones in their expensive clothes with their fancy instruments. And I told myself that I belonged here just as much as they did, because music does not care about money or clothes or where you come from. Music only cares about truth. And the truth is in here."
She pressed her hand to her heart.
The three judges looked at each other. Something unspoken passed between them. Professor Vasquez stood up and turned to Dr. Holloway.
"Richard," she said. "I think we need to talk."
Dr. Holloway nodded. He turned to Maya. "Miss Chen, would you mind waiting here for a few minutes? We need to discuss something privately."
"Of course," Maya said.
The three judges walked to the far corner of the room. They spoke in low voices, their heads bent together. Maya could not hear what they were saying. She sat at the piano and waited, her hands folded in her lap.
While the judges talked, Maya looked around the room. It was such a beautiful space, with its high ceilings, tall windows, and polished wooden floors. She imagined what it would be like to study here, to walk these halls every day, to have access to pianos like this one whenever she wanted. It seemed like a dream—a beautiful, impossible dream.
The judges finished their conversation and walked back toward Maya. Their faces were serious, but not unkind. Dr. Holloway stood in front of the piano.