She sat up in bed and looked around. A nightmare? Pre-performance jitters?
She took a deep breath. Calm down. Calm down.
She tried to go back to sleep, but the entire house seemed too warm. She put on her slippers and quietly walked into the night.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star…” whispered a voice behind her.
Katrina swung around.
“W-who are you?”
“I am so sorry to scare you,” the old man said. “My name is Tremon Philippe.”
“What do you want?” Katrina glanced nervously for a stick with some nails, or a bottle she could break. But she wasn’t on the streets of Oakland. She was in a placid backyard garden overlooking Monterey Park.
Shit. In her goth days, she’d at least have had a crucifix.
Tremon held his hands open. They were terrifyingly gentle.
“I mean no harm.” The demon spoke like Katrina imagined a grandfather might. “I would simply like to wish you luck for tomorrow. And perhaps, help level your playing field.”
“And you’re visiting all the contestants this way?” Katrina said defiantly.
“Of course not. But for you, I thought it necessary, considering what the world has unfairly done to you.”
“What?”
“Well, not everyone’s parents have said the horrible things that your parents have said. And there was so much more, right? What father would smash a violin? What parent would try to break their child? How could it, even now, not tear into your heart?”
Katrina looked down and bit her lip.
“Katrina, not everyone lives in a world that calls them freakish. Not everyone must read the horrible things said to you online, or hear what is said to your face. How can you play to an audience with passion and honesty, when that same audience thinks that you are unworthy of love?”
This was not the time to cry. But to receive such simple acknowledgment, even from a demon …
“Child, Shizuka Satomi is an amazing teacher. But can she really understand how it is for you in this world? Imagine, no more laughing, no more judging. Imagine never having anyone give you that look.
“Upstairs, your teacher keeps the dogwood bow. Take it, and you will never have to imagine again.”
Katrina felt her heart race, her ears grow warm.
She thought of the women on the bus. The salesgirls at the mall. Her family. She thought of Shirley right now, taking down comments from Internet trolls.
To never be hated. Never be laughed at again …
Slowly, as if in a spell, Katrina opened her mouth to say yes.
But then she heard a crash. Grandma Lieu, whose family owned a Mercedes and a Lexus, was collecting empty cans. The dissonance brought her back to her senses.
He was a demon. Tempting was what he did.
“Thank you, Mr. Philippe. But Miss Satomi is already helping me enough. Good night, sir.” With her mind at peace, Katrina turned back to the house.
“But at what cost to her, Katrina Nguyen?”
Katrina stopped.
“What?”
“You see,” the demon said casually, “this is what I have not been able to understand. Shizuka Satomi sent six souls to me without hesitation. But you? She’s trying to save you. Even though it will cost her own soul. Why ever would she do this? And why for you?”
“Her soul? But Miss Satomi said she could find another student later, or retire…”
Tremon laughed.
“Oh, no no no. She was given seven years for each of the seven souls. Forty-nine years. And it has been almost exactly forty-nine years since she signed her contract. So, if she doesn’t deliver seven souls by midnight tomorrow—” He looked at his watch. “My mistake—by midnight tonight—then she defaults.”
“Wait—what? She didn’t tell me that!”
“Of course she wouldn’t. But we are dealing with Hell. Child, are you really that stupid?”
“But Miss Satomi said she would be fine!”
“Fine? How would Shizuka Satomi be fine, with you keeping her from her own music? Even you must have wondered why there were no records of her music, no trace of recitals or concerts. Surely you must have wondered why someone with her brilliance could never perform.
“Did you not for once think that what stood between her and all of that was you? Forgive me if I find that difficult to believe. Shizuka Satomi would never think of sacrificing herself for such a dullard.
“So perhaps instead … you chose to shut your eyes?”
“N-no…”
There was no way she could have known, right? Miss Satomi said she would teach her violin. Miss Satomi said she would help her find her voice. Miss Satomi said to work on her marcato. Miss Satomi said to smell the air.