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It was Wednesday evening. Fiona sat down at the piano, adjusting her posture until her spine mirrored the rigid grace Laura demanded, ready to begin the practice she’d been set. Having received significant praise the evening before, she was keen to prepare for next week’s lesson as best she could, wanting very much to feel the weight of that praise again. The practice required this week was clear in her mind and she would make sure she practiced every day without fail, as she had promised Laura she would.

Her mother heard the first few notes ring out and quickly came into the room. “Before you start your practice,” she said, “I wanted to ask you why you’re getting home from your lessons so late. You must have been at Laura Middleton’s place for over two hours last night.”

“I’m not sure if it was that long,” Fiona stopped playing. “But the lesson did run longer than usual.”

“Why was that? We only pay for one hour. It seems odd that you’re getting so much extra tuition without charge.”

"It’s a benefit of having the lessons on Ms. Middleton’s grand piano. As she isn’t spending any time on the journey here, she’s willing to let the lessons run long.”

"She must think you’re very talented to spend so much extra time with you. Or is there another reason?"

Fiona’s pulse stuttered, but she kept her voice steady, aiming for nonchalance. “Sometimes she just wants to get things absolutely right. Playing the grand piano is... different. Ms. Middleton caught a recurring ghost note in my left-hand phrasing during the Appassionata. She insisted we stay until I could replicate the correct weight ten times in a row without a single error."

"Ten times? That woman is a taskmaster."

"She’s a perfectionist. She says that since I’m using her concert grand now, I can’t hide behind the limitations of my upright anymore. She told me that if I want to play like a professional, I have to have the stamina of one."

Her mother’s voice softened. “I’m just glad she’s taking such a personal interest in your progress.”

"She’s just being thorough. The extra time on the grand piano makes the technical side feel... less like a struggle."

“It sounds like she’s doing a really good job. Pushing you to the next level.”

“She is,” said Fiona. “We didn’t stop much last night. I played much more than I struggled.” She paused, then added, “Ms. Middleton said I’m starting to trust myself.”

“That’s a good thing to hear,” her mother said. “You must be pleased.”

“I am,” Fiona replied. “It feels like things are starting to settle. Like I know where I’m going when I sit down to play.”

Her mother nodded, satisfied. “What about that piece you were practicing so much? The one you were really fussing over? How did that go?”

“The Satie piece? That went very well. Ms. Middleton was very pleased with me. The practice really paid off, as she said I’d got it just right.”

Her mother nodded again. “That’s good. But don’t let her overwork you.” Turning to leave, she added, “Find time for other things, besides piano practice.”

Fiona smiled. “I do practice every day, but I’ve still got plenty of time for other things.” Her mind suddenly filled with visions of the stage performances she’d seen recently, Evelyn and Lila and The Shimmy Sisters. She reveled in the one memory she liked best, Evelyn and Lila’s bodies pressed together at the end of their private show. The

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