XXXVI.

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    Jamie barely said a word once they left the center. The silence left him in confusion. From what he heard outside the auditorium, it was perfect. It was breathtaking interpretation of her favorite compositions, mixed with her own pieces of work. Did something else happen? Once the music stopped, he could barely hear a thing behind those thick walls.

"I didn't know there was an interview..." she muttered as they walked down Michigan Avenue. "I spent so much time doing one thing and wasn't prepared for the other."

"It had it listed on the paperwork, J."

Jamie shrugged, "I overlooked it. Whatever. What's done is done."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure you it still went smoothly," he replied. "And from what I heard you play, I'm sure they were blown away by that alone."

"You heard?"

"Of course," he squeezed her hand lightly. "I didn't go far. I just stepped outside the space. You know I wasn't gonna miss this. As much as I've been thinking about it and hassling you about practicing. I'd be an idiot to not listen."

"Thanks, P."

"So, what do you want to do? Where do you want to go?"

Jamie stopped on the sidewalk to wave down a cab. "There's this museum I was reading about back home. I really wanna go."

The yellow taxi slowed, pulling up to the curb. Prince was quick to open the door. "Which museum?"

"A good one," Jamie smiled as she turned to the driver. "Could you take us to the DuSable Museum, please?"

    Jamie was taken aback by the reactions of those around them

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Jamie was taken aback by the reactions of those around them. From the moment he unraveled his scarf and removed his shades, everyone was gawking. The constant staring made her fill with unease.

Prince found himself, whispering his earlier statement in her ear once more. "We're not in Minneapolis anymore. Everything is different when I leave home."

Jamie nodded as they continued their journey through the many exhibits.

She read the captions about the shipment of slaves, how they were packed in boats and the harsh living conditions once in America.

In the corner of the room, a statue of four black children in rags, stared back at them.

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