“Thank you, but no. I’ll be practicing,” Shizuka said.
“Practicing?”
“Yes. I need to prepare for the new student, after all.”
“Of course, Miss Satomi.”
A few minutes later, Astrid heard a most wonderful music rising from below.
Due to her deal with Hell, all traces of Miss Satomi’s performances had been erased, and she was forbidden to perform. But since her job was to teach, she had to maintain her skills. Thus, in the privacy of her practice hall, she could play as much as she desired. This meant that, other than Miss Satomi’s chosen students, Astrid was the only person in the world who was able to hear Shizuka Satomi play.
Which, of course, was more than privilege enough. But tonight, Miss Satomi’s violin sounded different. Astrid closed her eyes.
Her playing was every bit as rich and nuanced as all the years had made her. Still, something about Miss Satomi’s music seemed almost as if it were waking, returning.
Astrid recalled Grandma Strafeldas, her treasured tulips coming back to life after the long Swiss winter …
New leaves, supple and pointing, like the fingers of small children, to the sky.
8
What?
Katrina sat up. Quickly, she checked herself. No new scrapes or bruises. She was wearing a nightshirt, but it wasn’t ripped. She’d not been choked. In fact, her body seemed fine.
Violin!
She panicked before she felt the case next to her. She opened it carefully. The strings were still loose. A peg was still missing; the bridge was still glued to the face. Her heart sank. That part had not been a dream.
Still, here she was, and her violin was with her. But where was here?
There was a knock on her bedroom door.
“Y-yes?”
“Miss Katrina? I heard you stir. Are you awake?” said a proper, yet caring voice. Somehow, the voice made her feel safe.
She cracked the door open.
“Hello?”
“Good morning. I am Astrid, Miss Satomi’s housekeeper. Did you sleep well?”
Katrina nodded.
“Last night, you were exhausted, so we let you sleep. But you’ll feel better after you take a bath. Come?”
Katrina followed Astrid down the hall. Astrid handed her a towel and a washcloth.
“Miss Katrina, please use the shower first. Then soak in the bath; it’s already filled.”
Astrid bowed slightly before closing the door. Katrina started to undress.
Suddenly, the door reopened.
“Yes?”
“Leave the nightshirt here to be washed. Your clothes are almost dry. I’ll leave them on your bed.”
“Oh, um … okay.”
The bath was not the bathtub she had at home. It was rectangular, and came about waist high, and a gentle steam floated from the surface. A sturdy wooden step stool allowed her to ease herself inside. She closed her eyes, and stepped in.
And almost screamed.
Hot! Hot! Hot!
Katrina quickly withdrew her foot, which was now was flushed and red.
Holy fuck, the bathtub from Hell! Seriously, who took a bath in water this hot? She added cold water until the temperature was bearable. Finally, she eased herself in.
Katrina couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a full bath. Katrina usually rushed her showers; being naked, even with herself, made her uncomfortable.
But here, submerged to her neck in the still-steaming water, Katrina felt almost weightless. When was the last time she felt that?
She thought she heard something in the hallway. She tried to get up, but slipped back. Immediately, she cringed, expecting something in her body to hurt.
But there was nothing. Nothing outside, and nothing within. No pain. Just calm. Quiet.
Katrina had thought she’d rush her bath, like she always did. But maybe she could stay in just a little while longer.
She didn’t know how long she had been in the bath, but eventually, the water cooled enough that she shivered. She stepped out of the tub, dried herself with a big fluffy towel, and looked for her …
Clothes? Where?
Astrid said they would be on her bed.
Katrina hastily wrapped herself in her towel. Wait, she had woken in a nightshirt. That meant that last night either she or Shizuka must have undressed her. They must have seen … but Astrid had made no mention of this.
Thank goodness for small miracles.
Katrina tried not to laugh at her own joke. But now she was naked. And, even if she covered her body, with wet hair and no makeup, there was nothing to keep her face from looking like a boy’s.
She had to be careful.
Katrina wrapped the towel around her and stepped outside quietly. Yet as the door closed behind her, she realized she had no idea of the way back to her room.