Shizuka was having a difficult time believing it herself. A musician worthy of the Queen of Hell should have been recognized somewhere, right?

Who? What? How is this possible?

Even now, Shizuka could sense Astrid’s concern. Had she made a mistake? Was this wishful thinking? Might Tremon Philippe be playing a cruel joke?

No.

The girl might be battered, a runaway. She might have had no idea who Shizuka Satomi was. And yes, she might be unnoticed, unrecognized, even untrained.

But what Shizuka heard, from the call of the tuning fork, through the first draw of her bow, to Schradieck and the shiver of February mist …

Shizuka stared out the window at a cloudless wash of sky.

Oh, Satomi, if only you had kept your composure! If only you had asked for a telephone number, gotten a hint to where she might be staying …

Shizuka finished her breakfast and reached for her sunglasses. But what was done was done. And the girl did have her card, if she hadn’t thrown it away.

For now, all she could do was tell Astrid to once again prepare for a guest, and return to El Molino Park. For after so long sensing it, almost swearing by it, chasing it, believing in it, Shizuka Satomi finally knew what she had been waiting for.

And, more importantly, she finally knew why.

“Mother, she’s back,” said Shirley.

This was the third time this week that Sunglass Lady had come to the store. Yet Lan had still not asked her name.

This was silly. This woman was a regular customer. One should know the names of regular customers, right? Then why was she hesitating? Lan had led her family out of an interstellar war zone, across a galaxy, safely to an obscure star system, and even secured this wonderful donut shop.

She nodded to herself and took a deep breath. This time, when Sunglass Lady came to the counter, Lan would say, “Welcome back,” take her order, and then ask her name.

“Why should I cut a donut in half?”

The boy in front of her couldn’t have been more than twelve. “I can’t eat a whole donut, so I want to save half for later,” Shizuka explained.

He didn’t need to know that the best way to preserve one’s music is repetition. A half donut from Starrgate was the first thing she had given that player in the park, and so Shizuka would play it just as she remembered.

Not to mention that she was hoping, just a little, to chat with Donut Lady.

The boy shrugged.

“Then why don’t you get a Texas Donut? It is like an Alaska Donut, but half the size.”

However, this had been her third time back to the Big Donut, and though the donuts had been impeccably consistent, Donut Lady had either not been present or passed by quickly, barely saying hello.