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Niko glances down, feeling the weight of her father’s censure.
I decide not to take up for her in front of her dad. Anything I say probably won’t help since Sazuki hates me anyway.
Instead, I slide the book back to Niko and sign, “Tell me all about your favorite stories. I’ll check them out for you.”
She brightens and bobs her head enthusiastically.
Sazuki watches me suspiciously through the rear-view mirror, but I smile innocently. This is between me and his daughter. What he doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him.
* * *
“Hi, Niko!”An overly cheerful woman with big eyes, limp purple hair and a nose ring pops in front of us like an extra in a horror movie.
I launch back, yelping.
Niko’s laughter peels out over the hollowed halls of Terrence Holler Music Academy.
It’s a pretentious name for what is basically a rich people’s after-school center.
Vaulted ceilings, chandeliers, and detailed wooden finishings remind me of an old church. The students are all wearing private school uniforms, complete with preppy skirts and sweater vests.
The adults look equally stuffy. My sneakers, crop top and high-waisted jeans are out of place amidst their sharp pencil skirts, pumps and panty hoses.
Who even wears panty hoses anymore?
Sazuki gives me a scolding look for yelling.
I curb the urge to stick my tongue out at him. He’s lucky my parents raised me to be somewhat of a respectful member of society.
Purple Hair slants me a blank stare. “And you are?”
“She’s my friend. Deej,” Niko signs.
“I see.” Purple Hair does not look impressed.
Sazuki wears his perpetually annoyed face when he says, “We apologize for the imposition. Niko insisted.”
“I want her to stay,” Niko signs.
Sazuki gestures to me. “I hope you do not mind if Miss Dajon—”
“It’s Dee-jonae. Deej. Not Daj—”
“—Ifthis woman,” Sazuki cuts me off, “sits in on Niko’s piano lessons.”
Every muscle in my body tenses.Did this man just cut me off?
Niko grabs my arm and drags me down the hallway, saving Sazuki from—at minimum, a tongue lashing and at most, a swift kick in the groin.
We gain speed as we turn the bend. Niko’s curly hair flairs behind her and, I can’t lie, my inner child bursts out.
Musical instruments blare from every room. Violins, cellos and flutes. A cacophony of beautiful, musical chaos.
We skid to a stop in front of an empty room. The sounds bleed into silence. The room’s got thick soundproof walls and lots of overhead lights. I inhale deeply, loving the scent of sheet music and instrument oil.
Niko shows off a grand piano. It looks exactly like the one Sazuki brought into the Belle’s Beauty gala—the one he pushed my hand away from before he whispered in my ear and made everything inside me freeze.
“Is this yours?” I ask.
