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Night” from The Phantom of the Opera, and once the boy found his starting place, he sang five words and his voice trailed off.
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    FORGIVEN
    He shot a helpless look at Katy. “I forgot the words.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Could I try once more?”
    “Um…” The situation was a little sticky. Katy could hardly allow each of the hundred and thirty-some kids to have second and third and fourth attempts at their songs. But since he could usually sing so well, she nodded. “Once more, okay?”
    “Okay.” The boy rubbed the palms of his hands on his jeans. This time the music began and he found the right starting place. But once more he lost the words halfway through the first line. A frown filled his face, and he squinted at the audience. “Does anyone know that next line?”
    Katy’s mouth fell open. Asking the audience for help was definitely not allowed.
    “Okay, thank you.” She nodded to the boy. Her heart hurt for him, but she couldn’t give him any more attempts. “Five-minute break, everyone.”
    She watched the boy take his music and walk dejectedly off the stage. And then something happened that put a lump in Katy’s throat. At the bottom of the stairs, the boy was met by six of his friends, kids who had been in CKT since the beginning. Together they dashed over from where they were sitting and formed a cluster around him, hugging him and letting him know that he might’ve blown an audition, but they still loved him, still wanted to be his friend.
    The scene made Katy’s eyes water. Okay, God, You keep showing me why I’m here and not in Hollywood. But what about my
    Annie? Please let there be an Annie out there somewhere.
    Do not be anxious about anything, my daughter.
    The response was so quick, so certain that Katy jumped a little in her seat. The words were part of a verse in Philippians, words Katy had relied on often in her life. But the way they came to her now was more powerful than ever before, as if the Spirit of God was speaking them straight to her soul.
    “You okay?” Rhonda leaned in. “I could call Manly Stanley over if you need a pick-me-up.”
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    KAREN KINGSBURY
    “Spare me.” She tapped her pencil. “You notice we haven’t got our Annie yet?”
    Rhonda winced. “Sort of.”
    Katy held out one hand in front of her. “We’ve got girls who could sing the part, but they’re too old or too tall.” Now she held out the other hand. “The little girls are the perfect size, but not one of them can project.”
    “You worried?”
    “I asked God to bring us an Annie.” The kids were loud. She had to lean closer so Rhonda could hear her. “I can’t have just anyone sing that part.”
    “And we can’t give it to Bryan Smythe.” Rhonda’s eyes danced.
    “Although—” Katy stroked her chin—”if we gave him a curly red wig…”
    The auditions continued, and finally in the last group, a little girl with waist-length hair hopped onto the stage and grinned at Katy and Rhonda. “Hi, my name’s Kelsy Bouchey. I’m ten years old, and I’ll be singing ‘Little Girls’ from Annie.”
    Katy sat back, amused. The kids knew better than to audition with a song by the character they wanted to play. Katy had warned them again and again that such a move would limit their casting potential. Kelsy would’ve been wrong to sing “Tomorrow.” But “Little Girls” was another story. In the play, it was sung by Miss Hannigan, so it allowed little Kelsy the chance to ham it up.
    And that’s exactly what she did. In a voice that was strong and sweet, she sang the song without error, showing more spunk than all the other little girls combined. When she finished, Katy was convinced beyond a doubt. She’d been right earlier that evening before auditions started. Something special had indeed happened.
    They’d found their Annie.
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CHAPTER THREE
    ASHLEY SQUIRTED A BLOB OF GEL into the palm of her hand, rubbed it over her fingers, and then worked it into Cole’s