Oh, if only she could play again, how she would appreciate it! She would play to the world, to eternity. She would play joyfully.

But of course, she could play again.

All she needed was one last soul.

The Queen of Hell looked at Katrina. Her student regarded her with complete trust, complete belief.

“Miss Satomi?”

Maybe yesterday, but not today. Her time was over. Homesick or not, her music would remain quiet. The world would have to wait.

And Hell?

“You do realize we only have three months, right?”

Katrina nodded.

“Yes, Miss Satomi.”

Shizuka patted her student’s head. “Let’s get noodles. Then boba.”

“And then?” Katrina asked.

“We’ll come home, and you’ll practice until you kick their asses in.”

Somewhere, not too far away, Shizuka was sure Tremon Philippe was smiling. The seventh student, playing the very sonata that made her the Queen of Hell.

So poetic, don’t you think? he would say.

She could almost hear his accursed croak of a laugh.

Fuck him.

Really, she should not let her personal feelings influence her. She should not get Katrina involved in her battles. She should not let Katrina touch this piece.

But if this was Katrina’s desire? Well, aspiration is not a privilege. It’s a birthright. Shizuka looked at her wall of violins.

She had three months left.

Might as well make them glorious.

Lan watched Shirley sell yet another box of donuts. Customers were raving about these “old-school donuts,” that no matter how crazy life got, a box of Starrgate donuts could bring you back to simpler, better times … your grandma’s kitchen, your first paycheck, knowing one day you were going to get married, have a house.

Not even the Thamavuongs had enjoyed this success. It seemed unbelievable. Yet Lan could not deny the smiles and miles of people rolling up in vintage Chevys, sensible Toyota Corollas, shiny Honda Civics, beat-up pickup trucks with lawn mowers in the back.

The Starrgate Donut crew had done well. Now the crew operated on a regular schedule. Aunty Floresta supervised the main donut operations, while Shirley handled maintenance and the night shift. Edwin helped Windee; Windee helped Edwin.

The donuts were fine. The crew was fine.

Now all that remained was the stargate.

There was still more work for Lan to do.

But first, Lan walked to the Stargate video games. Already, a crowd of her video game admirers had gathered, eager to see the captain (as they had been calling her) break yet another high score.

She was just about to drop in another quarter when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Lanny—walk with me.”

Aunty Floresta led her niece to the old folding chair behind the store and sat her down.

“Lanny, do you know how much time you’ve been spending on that machine?”

“Aunty? Ah … you’re right. I’m sorry. I should spend more time on completing the star—”