Azalea had always wanted to play the piano. It seemed as though she played every other instrument, but for some reason, her mother refused to let her learn how to play since she was five. That was about a year after her father died.
She asked her mother, day after day, "Mom, can I please learn how to play the piano?"
"No, Azalea," she would reply her constant reply.
Then her mother would change the subject with some sort of business she had to do.
She came home one day to, once again, beg her mother to have piano lessons.
Azalea took a deep breath as she walked in the door to ask the age old question, but instead saw something tremendous.
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