“Stay right here on this crate, honey,” Diana whispered as she tucked a loose curl behind Rosie’s ear. “I just have to finish the dessert service, and then we can go get some ice cream.”
Rosie nodded obediently, but her eyes drifted toward the service elevator where the faint sound of piano music filtered down. Music had always acted like a magnet for Rosie, pulling at her soul in a way she couldn’t explain.
Back in their cramped apartment in a rough part of Tacoma, Rosie would spend hours listening to the neighbors’ radio through the floorboards. She had never touched a real piano, but she practiced the finger movements on the wooden kitchen table every single night.
The melody from the ballroom grew louder as a waiter pushed through the swinging doors. Rosie couldn’t help herself and slipped away from her crate, following the sound up the back stairs.
She walked out into the massive ballroom, her small frame looking tiny against the towering columns. Her simple denim dress and worn sneakers stood out like a stain against the sea of silk and expensive tuxedos.