Two minutes later, she found herself welcomed into the third-floor apartment, where at least a dozen people had gathered for the party. There was nice furniture, fancy carpets, and a piano where a young man picked out some tunes. A feast had been set out on the dining table, but most impressive were the people. They welcomed Annabelle into their fold like a long-lost friend simply because she was Elaine’s sister. Annabelle recognized the elder Mr. Talbot from the one time she met him at the library. His silvery hair was neatly groomed, and he leaned against the far wall of the apartment, looking slim and elegant in a formal shirt and vest.

Someone thrust a plate of birthday cake into her hands and gestured for her to sit at the table. She was about to take her first bite of cake when a teenaged boy snatched it away. “Everyone here must sing for their supper. We even made Elaine sing, and she’s the birthday girl. Now it’s your turn.”

The request stunned her into silence, but Elaine rushed to her rescue. “Singing was never Annabelle’s strong suit.”

Howls of protest greeted Elaine’s comment, but these people couldn’t know what they were asking. Annabelle wasn’t even permitted to sing in church because the gales of children’s laughter distracted the congregation.

The young man at the piano twisted in his seat to face her. He wore shaded glasses, and Annabelle recognized Harry, the blind soldier Elaine had been working with.

“Only people who sing are allowed to have cake,” Harry said. “It’s the rules.”

The cake looked delicious, but these people truly didn’t understand. “I can make grown men faint at the sound of my singing. The glasses will crack; the cake will turn rancid.”

“Now we must hear it,” Harry exclaimed, and everyone else in the apartment joined in an anticipatory drumbeat.

Even Elaine looked ready to concede. “We’re all friends here. Go ahead and sing.”

“A slice of gourmet birthday cake is on the line,” the elder Mr. Talbot coaxed.

Annabelle wanted that cake, and these people did seem friendly. If nothing else, she had learned to be brave over the past few years.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she cautioned, then launched into a rendition of “My Wild Irish Rose.” She tried to hold the tune, but within moments the melody got away from her as she warbled off key. She completely missed the high notes, and everything was going spectacularly, horribly wrong, but her audience appreciated the effort and began cheering her on. She raced toward the end of the song before completely losing her composure and collapsing into laughter.

She earned a standing ovation for her efforts, along with hollers of praise and requests for more. Annabelle laughed so hard her sides hurt, and Elaine wiped tears of laughter from her face.