Paris, 1763

She fell on the pavement, exhausted. The day was just beginning to rise, but the streets of Paris were still deserted. A few more steps separated her from the tiny dark, damp room where she would find her brother and mother, but her legs refused to carry her any longer. How did she find herself dancing a whole night for disgusting customers too drunk to realize that the girl they were clumsily trying to touch and caress was only 12 years old? The answer, Adelina preferred not to think about it. Folding the dirty skirt of her dress on her legs to protect them from the cold, she put her head in the hollow of her right arm as she clenched her left arm against her trembling chest.

"What are you doing?"

The sharp voice had arisen from the darkness as a lightning illuminates the sky. Adelina jumped to her hands despite her exhaustion. In front of her was standing a little boy, six or seven years old at the most, staring at her through his wide black eyes, almost entirely covered by his thick blond hair.

"I'm counting the paving stones" Adelina grumbled, too tired to soften her tone before the adorable child. The latter began to giggle.

"You can't count them all!" he shot back laughing. "Not if you stay laying there anyway." He added, a glimpse of wickedness sparkling in his eyes.

Adelina let out a sigh.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart" the child proudly recited with his hands behind his back.

"Um… alright, Wolgang," the teenager responded, repeating the only name she could kind of make out from the litany of words coming out the kid's mouth. "Where are your parents?"

"My name is not Wolfgang!" he laughed again, ignoring her question. "And you, what's your name?"

"Adelina."

"Alina" the child repeated, a thick accent keeping him from pronouncing her name correctly.

"That's right, Alina," the young girl sighed who was quickly running out of patience. "Where are your parents?" she asked again.

"I don't know." the child replied, skipping from one leg to another.

Suddenly the quays of the Seine caught his eyes and he rushed in their direction.

"Wait!" Adelina shouted, awkwardly getting back on her feet and going after the damned toddler.

"Stop" she breathed out, grabbing the kid's arm. "You could fall in the river."

Suddenly another voice came up behind them, followed by footsteps. A small group of three barged into the street. A couple rushed to Wolfgang and pulled him into a tight hug, shoving Adelina.

"Where have you been?" the mother of the child said in a sob.

"I was with Alina," the child replied, pointing at the teenager. "She wouldn't let me play in the river." He added with a pout.

Before Adelina could say anything, the father of the child got up and bowed in front of her.

"Alina, the Mozart will forever be grateful to you," He said in a deep voice.

Following his words, a little girl -looking like she was the same age as Adelina- came closer to her in her pretty pink dress and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you for looking out for my brother," she said with a soft voice.

Without further ado, the Mozart walked away and the street fell silent again. Adelina sat back down, amazed. She played the scene in her head several times, and an unexpected conclusion came to her. Adelina's life had not been easy so far. Maybe Alina's would be better?

Hi everyone, and welcome to the English version of my story "Le Chant du couteau". In this story, I am trying to stay as close as I can to the actual events that happened in real life to Salieri, Mozart, etc, although I added my OC in the mix, so I will obviously step away from the real story.
I hope my English will be understandable as French is my first language, but feel free to correct me if you see any mistake! Enjoy :)