“Did you forget your phone, Andrew? I told you not to—”
She froze midsentence.
This was not Andrew at all.
Exquisite. Fiery. Sunglasses. Footsteps in perfect time.
“Is Franco here?”
“Franco? Oh, I’m sorry. He passed away twelve years ago.”
“What? Twelve years? Has it been twelve years…”
Lucy felt this woman trying to place her.
“I’m Lucy,” she finally offered.
“Lucía? You’re all grown up! I’m Shizuka Satomi.”
Of course she was. A photo of her was over her head. It had been Catalin’s favorite. But a photo was nothing compared to reality. Lucy had to suppress an urge to bow.
With casual elegance, Shizuka turned to Katrina.
“This is Lucía Matía. Lucía has been in this shop since she was a child.”
Katrina bowed and tried to make herself small.
“Lucía, I remember watching you change the bridge on Aoi Miyazawa’s Strad, remember? The one she got from that billionaire German? You couldn’t have been more than eight or nine.”
Lucy looked at her feet. “I was ten. And Miss Miyazawa wasn’t supposed to know that,” she muttered.
“Not only did she know it, she performed with it that night.” Shizuka laughed. “Even then, you had the hands of a Matía. And now you’re finally the master.”
Lucy winced. Sure, she had decent hands—her grandfather had said so himself—but a master?
“Look, I’d love to. But I don’t have the qualifications. Ever since my father died, I’ve just been doing simple work here and there. Nothing complicated—just basic repairs and setups. Maybe you can find another shop?”
At least that was what Lucy Matía had intended to say.
But Shizuka Satomi had already placed a violin case in front of her. Then she pointed at the boy next to her.
“This is my student, and we need your help.”
Lucy tried to remain calm, but this was Shizuka Satomi. As a performer, she was said to have never lost a contest. As a teacher? From Morihei Sanada to Yifeng Zheng and everyone in between … Burke, Tourischeva, Eisen, Choi … the Queen of Hell had taught them all.
So, despite herself, Lucy placed her curious hands upon the case. Her heart raced as she imagined the magnificent instrument inside.
“I—I don’t understand.”
“She bought this from eBay,” Shizuka said casually. “It’s from China. Is there anything wrong?”
“A-are you serious?” Lucy stuttered. “I mean, we have some very good rental instruments that he’d be welcome to try. I mean, not like anything you have, but—”
“She.”
“Huh?”
“My student is a girl.”
“Oh, whatever, well…”
“Her name is not whatever. Her name is Katrina,” Shizuka said sweetly.
“Yes, of course it was not whatever. It’s just—” She stopped herself before she said worse. “I’m sorry.”
“Not to me.” Shizuka Satomi gestured to her student.
“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said to Katrina.
Katrina looked down, trying to make herself disappear. Lucy’s heart sank. Watching this child made Lucy think of all the times her father had lost his temper.
“So, you’ll do the job, Lucía?”
Before she knew it, Lucy nodded.
“Good. Though it is not from a prestigious maker, its sound may surprise you. And my student bought this with every penny she had.”
Shizuka said the last line innocently, but Lucy could feel the gaze of the Queen of Hell. If you dare laugh at her or her violin, I will burn your soul and this entire shop to ash.
Carefully, Lucy picked up the instrument. It was heavy, but well shaped. The varnish was a little uneven, but neither soft nor uncured. The arching and fluting were fine. The scroll was rough, but it had a smooth curl from the inside out. There was no break; the line flowed naturally from the center outward.
So this instrument wasn’t merely chopped and pressed out of scrap. Someone had cared.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how much did you pay for this?”
“Two hundred forty-one dollars plus shipping. I got really lucky. It’s a P20+.”
“Really?”
Lucy had no idea what a P20+ was. But Mr. Zacatecas had paid more than three times that price for his Romanian beer fiddle. Lucy retrieved her penlight and peered inside.
Hmm. The sound post was shifted slightly toward the treble side, up and away from the bridge.