Chapter 3

A month later, my piano teacher called my dad.

"Mr. Miller, why did you withdraw Daisy from next semester's classes?"

"She is incredibly talented. Her conservatory prep auditions are next month. It’s such a waste to stop now."

It was the weekend.

My dad held the receiver, his face turning red with anger.

He spun around, glaring at Valerie, who was in the laundry room washing Chloe's new sneakers.

"You cancelled Daisy's piano lessons?!"

Valerie didn't even turn around. She kept scrubbing the shoes furiously.

"Yeah, I did. Three hundred dollars a term? That’s highway robbery. What is she going to do with piano anyway? Eat it?"

"Daisy has been playing for three years! And that three hundred dollars was from my overtime pay!"

My dad's voice echoed through the apartment.

I ran out of my room, clutching my worn-out sheet music.

"Mom, please don't cancel my lessons. I promise I'll practice every day. I won't ask for new clothes, and I won't ask for snacks. Please..."

I grabbed Valerie's soapy hand, tears pouring down my face.

Valerie shook me off violently. The soapy water splashed into my eyes, burning like fire.

"Stop crying! All you do is cry! Chloe needs advanced STEM classes and private English tutoring. That costs over five hundred dollars. Cancelling your piano lessons was the only way to cover it."

"With what right?!"

My dad rushed over, snatched the shoe brush from her hand, and threw it onto the floor.

"If Chloe wants to learn something, pay for it with your own salary! I earned Daisy's tuition. You have no right to touch it!"

Valerie stood up, hands on her hips, her voice screaming loud enough for the entire building to hear.

"With what right? Because I am the matriarch of this household! Robert, look at your conscience! Chloe is smart enough to get into an elite prep school. Her teachers said she’s a genius."

"And Daisy? What does playing the piano do besides letting her show off? Our budget is tight, so obviously, our resources should go to the child with a real future!"

Just then, our neighbor, Mrs. Gable, came out to take out her trash. Hearing the commotion, she peeked inside.

Valerie’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She sobbed, looking toward the door.

"Oh, Mrs. Gable, please be the judge here. I'm just trying to give a poor, abused orphan a fighting chance in life."

"But my husband here? He’d rather waste a fortune on superficial hobbies for his own daughter than let a poor child have a future. How can a man be so heartless and selfish?!"

Mrs. Gable looked uncomfortable but chimed in anyway.

"Well, Robert... Valerie is doing a beautiful thing. Adopting isn't easy. The neighborhood association was actually talking about nominating her for a Community Charity Award next week."

A few other neighbors gathered in the hallway, whispering and nodding.

"Exactly, Robert. Doing charity brings good karma."

"A little girl doesn't need fancy piano lessons anyway."

The wave of praise and agreement washed over Valerie.

She stood in the center of the room, her spine straight and her face filled with proud satisfaction.

Meanwhile, my dad and I stood in the dark entryway, painted as the villainous, greedy monsters of the story.

Chloe stood behind Valerie, wearing a brand-new backpack Valerie had bought her, clutching an imported chocolate bar.

It was bought with the refund from my piano lessons.

She looked at me, took a slow bite of the chocolate, and showed her dark, coated teeth in a sweet, innocent smile.

I looked down at my wet sheet music.

The pages were ruined, the ink bleeding into a mess. I would never be able to play that song again.