The hall fell silent.

Anna felt her ears burning. Everyone was looking at her. Not as a person, but as an amusement.

She slowly wiped her hands on her apron… and took a step toward the piano. And then something unexpected happened 

Emma sat down, straightened her dress, and began to play.

It was… good. Clean. Correct. Professional. The guests nodded politely, some even clapped.

Mark smiled, pleased.

“There you go,” he said. “And now you.”

He looked at Anna. The room fell silent.

Anna slowly approached the piano. She sat down. And from the very first notes, something changed in the room.

This wasn’t just music. She played as if she lived in every key. Without pretentious movements, without theatrics—but in a way that took someone’s breath away.

When she finished, no one clapped for several seconds.

“No…” Mark shook his head. “That can’t happen. Maybe you only know this melody. Play something else.”

Anna nodded. She began playing again. A most complex composition. Without notes. Without looking at anything. Just from memory.

Now no one doubted it.

When the last note faded, the hall erupted in applause.

Mark looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.