Shizuka could feel the terror in the girl’s voice. Her hand was already gripping the door handle. This would not do. Shizuka brought the car to a stop, shut off the engine, then looked at her student with her full attention.

“Transgender. Yes, Katrina. I heard you the first time. Shall we fix your violin?”

“Yes, please,” Katrina managed to say.

“Good. And, Katrina, no jumping out of moving cars. It causes a mess.”

“Yes, Miss Satomi.”

Miss Satomi pressed the buzzer to be let inside. Katrina bit her lip as she walked through the curly maple doorway onto the polished spruce floors.

Grunfeld’s smelled as if someone had blended the scent of old wood and rosin and tastefully atomized it throughout the store. Interesting historical instruments hung from the walls. In the corner, a young woman meticulously dusted a row of violas. Down the hallway, Katrina could hear a cello.

A small part of Katrina wanted to hear every instrument in the store, but much more of her was screaming, Get out, you don’t belong here!

These people weren’t like her. They had formal lessons. They grew up listening to Mozart and practicing scales, and their parents could probably read music, too. Katrina became painfully aware of the sound of her shoes on the hardwood floor. People like this would laugh at her just because she grew up east of Oakland.

Oh, and by the way, she was transgender.

Now a woman was staring. In fact, everyone was staring.

But they weren’t staring at her. They were all focused upon Miss Satomi.

Soon, an old man scurried out from the back.

“Hello, Helvar.”

“Shizuka Satomi! It’s been a long time. Not that time seems to have done anything to you.”

He winked. It reminded Katrina of the wink she had seen so often from married men in drag bars.

“Well, what do you have there?”

“I have a new student, and this is her violin.”

Every eye in the store shifted to her. Katrina gave Helvar Grunfeld her case. He smiled, but just beneath, Katrina could sense disgust.

“I—I’m sor—” She started to flail, but her teacher cut her off.

“She’d like it repaired, then properly set up, and maybe we can make the fingerboard a bit more responsive.”

The old man frowned. He motioned to another technician, who bit his lip and shrugged.

“Shizuka,” the old man said, “come back to the workshop, and let’s see what we can do.”

“Of course. Katrina, why not look at the sheet music and see if there’s anything here you want to play.”

Once out of earshot, Helvar opened the case and stared.

“Shizuka, how do I put this? This is some sort of joke?”

“I was surprised as well. But my student loves it, and it has quite a good sound.”