A few years ago, she offered to give me the piano, for my thirtieth birthday. I had not played in all those years. I saw the offer as a sign of forgiveness, a tremendous burden removed. "Are you sure?" I asked shyly. "I mean, won't you and Dad miss it?" "No, this your piano," she said firmly. "Always your piano. You only one can play." "Well, I probably can't play anymore," I said. "It's been years." "You pick up fast," said my mother, as if she knew this was certain. "You have natural talent. You could been genius if you want to." "No, I couldn't." "You just not trying," said my mother. And she was neither angry nor sad. She said it as if to announce a fact that could never be disproved. "Take it," she said. But I didn't at first. It was enough that she had offered it to me. And after that, every time I saw it in my parents' living room, standing in front of the bay window, it made me feel proud, as if it were a shiny trophy I had won back. Based on the narration and dialogue, which statement describes the narrator's mother best? She is still bitter that her daughter is not a genius. She doesn't really want to give the piano to her daughter, but Suyuan can't play it. She's confident that her daughter's attitude is the only reason she's not a genius. She knows what the piano means to her daughter.