Meanwhile, Tamiko Giselle Grohl was in her pre-performance cocoon: hoodie on, headphones on, sheet music, water, and a small container of macaroni potato salad at her side.

An outdoor showcase was not so much a competition as it was a spectacle. As always, parents were bragging and teachers were pacing. Some oboist would worry about how the wind was affecting her reed. A pianist would complain about not having a grand piano in the park. A violist … well …

Tamiko yawned.

Whatever … who cared? What mattered was Shizuka Satomi was here. And this time, Tamiko was ready.

Tamiko noticed her teacher nervously searching the park. She closed her eyes. Don’t worry. The Queen of Hell is here.

And her new student would be sharing the stage. Perfect.

Let’s play together. Tamiko giggled.

Let’s play together soon.

Eventually, Landon Fung signaled to the sound person, and the DJ stopped. The festival director said a few words, a representative of the formerly Ladies, now Women’s, Club of Temple City gave thanks, and a children’s choir led the crowd in singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

The crowd applauded, and the first Classically Camellia Music Showcase began.

As all this was going on, Shizuka had sheltered Katrina in a quiet space away across the park, near the public library. Katrina was playing sixth, which meant there was no reason to rush.

“Shouldn’t we be watching the others?” Katrina asked.

“Astrid will message us when we need to go. For now, warm up.”

From across the park, Katrina heard applause. It was loud. Whoever that was must have been amazing. They were all amazing, weren’t they? She was playing in a showcase. The Classically Camellia Music Showcase … They were probably brilliant and gorgeous, like anime characters.

“Katrina.”

She would never look like that, would she? Wait—Classically Camellia Music … but her piece wasn’t classical at all! What if they got mad? What if they stopped her in the middle—

“Katrina.”

“M-Miss Satomi?”

“What do you smell?”

“What?”

“What do you smell?” Miss Satomi repeated.

Smell? Katrina took a breath. And there was the smell of donuts. The smell of grass. Of car exhaust. Some kids must be smoking weed. The grass was wet in some places … She could smell the mud, and then she took another breath.

With the smells came other senses. The colors. The sounds came back. She could feel the evening cool against her.

Miss Satomi squeezed her hands firmly.

“Now, you are about to play these nice people some music, and they are eager to hear you. You’re just sharing your music with others. That’s all. Sharing.”

Katrina looked into the park, at the people enjoying a summer evening. Some were smiling. Many were peeking at their cell phones, some were drinking boba. And many were eating donuts.