She's wearing a grown-up, detached expression that screams she's thirteen-going-on-thirty, her sapphire hair catching thelight from the windows, blue wings folded tight against her back. I don't think I've seen her smile more than twice since I started working for Belinda. But she's a good kid and always helpful at the studio whenever Belinda brings her over.
"Hey, Zoe." I keep my voice casual. "Good to see you again."
She shrugs. "Hi."
One word. All business.
I don't push. Teenagers are like feral cats. If you move too fast, they hiss at you and they're gone.
"Matthew," I say instead, giving him a job because jobs are magic with kids, "want to help me set up? I need someone to check that all the mats are lined up."
"Yes!" He bounces on his toes. "I can do that!"
He bolts toward the already aligned mats with the kind of purpose adults pay therapists to rediscover. Zoe lingers near the door, arms crossed, gaze sliding past me to the back table.
The cookies. Of course.
"Don't even think about it," I say, not looking directly at her as I adjust a cushion. "Those are for after class."
She takes one step toward the tray anyway. I lift my brows.
"I wasn't." Zoe rolls her eyes dramatically and stops like the floor suddenly became lava. "Whatever."
Progress. Zoe walks over and makes a show of checking Matthew's work, pointing at a corner and telling him something in a low voice.
Belinda comes over and grabs her sage smudging stick and her abalone bowl.
"Where is their nanny? You know, the military-style orc lady who was with them last time?" I ask.
Belinda's smile falters, and she pinches her lips.
"The nanny quit," she says, and it comes out blunt, like ripping off a bandage. "I'm helping Rika out until she finds a replacement."
I blink. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Another prank gone wrong. She used super glue on the nanny's hair." Belinda tips her chin toward Zoe. "This puts Rika under a lot of stress. I'm not sure how she'll find a replacement. These two are getting quite the reputation, and Saltford Bay is a small town."
For sure. Word travels fast and far in the nanny world. No one wants to care for a "trouble family." Belinda's daughter won't have an easy time finding a replacement with this last prank hanging over her head.
"Want me to talk to her?" I point my chin toward Zoe.
"Be my guest." Belinda's smile returns and she jerks her chin toward the girl. "She could use a good talking-to."
From the corner of my eye, I see Zoe's wings stiffen against her back as she stills completely. She doesn't turn to her grandmother, but the tension in the teenage girl is obvious. She turns away from her brother and heads for the supply closet, yanking it open like she's going to wrestle the yoga props into submission.
Ah. Okay. Zoe heard that.
I've heard a bit about Rika's misadventures with the nannies through Belinda over the last few months. Not cool. Not cool.
Zoe starts hauling a pack of cylindrical support pillows from the closet, wrangling them like they're about to bite her. I slowly walk over to her, keeping my movements unhurried.
"Hey." I keep my voice gentle. "What happened to your nanny?"
"Nothing. Margaret made a big deal of it, that's all." She doesn't look at me. "The lady can't take a joke."
"People don't quit their jobs over nothing," I point out, but keep my voice low and even.
She sighs like I've personally ruined her life, then shoves a pillow back inside the closet. So much for the lumbar support, I guess.
