CHAPTER ONE
MAYA
New York, 2012
IFSAMWEREHERE, Maya wouldn’t have to go to this meeting alone. She jogged the last few blocks in a lame attempt to be less late for her meeting with the vice principal of her daughter’s high school. The woman had called this morning and scheduled an emergency conference, with no regard for how long it really took to get from Queens to Manhattan.
Maya barely even registered her thoughts about Sam as she drew in cool air and finally approached the school. Thoughts of Sam were like the flour and eggs in a cake: always there, but not what she concentrated on.
Besides, the fact that Sam wasn’t there was her own doing.
The school was set back from the street, and usually, Maya would take a few minutes to admire the beauty of the architecture in old New York City, but on this day, the pit in her stomach made her blind to her surroundings. She ran up steep steps that led to a sidewalk before she approached the covered doorway. She wiped sweat from her upper lip, grateful for the crisp fall chill while she waited to be buzzed in. She tried not to glance at her watch, but failed. She should have been in the meeting ten minutes ago.
Her heels clanked on the tile and echoed in the high ceilings as she took the longest strides her legs would allow. Large, tall windows let in the sun. The dark wood of the doorframes gleamed from recent polish, and the absence of graffiti gave the impression of a Fifth Avenue office building rather than a high school.
She approached Mrs. Pappenberger’s office and found a school security officer at the door. Panic made her jog the last few steps. The vice principal’s secretary was leading a woman and young blonde girl holding an ice pack to her lip into the outer office where her daughter, Samantha, waited. Maya recognized the blonde as Brittany Stevenson and suppressed a groan.
Beside Brittany, an immaculately dressed woman in a black pencil skirt, cream silk blouse and coordinating black blazer teetered on four-inch stilettos. Maya pulled her coat tighter, grateful she had removed herSweet Nothingsapron before leaving her coffee shop-slash-bakery. Her daughter was also standing, arms fiercely folded across her body, dark curls tamed into the ponytail Maya had seen her in this morning. Despite the angry glances she was throwing at the mother-daughter pair, Samantha’s face was pale, making her dark brown eyes look almost black. The woman glared at Samantha as she delicately adjusted the ice pack on her daughter’s lip. Both girls wore the standard school uniform, but while Samantha’s skirt was decidedly knee level, Brittany’s skirt definitely challenged the school dress code.
Maya’s heart sank as she analyzed the scene. “Samantha.” It was a strong effort, keeping her voice neutral. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on, Ms. Rao,” the woman said, turning ice-cold eyes on Maya. “Your hoodlum daughter took a swing at my poor Brittany.” She had a slight accent that Maya couldn’t quite place, and she pouted full red lips against camel-colored skin. “It’s not enough that she throws outrageous accusations at her—now she has to physically assault her!” She actually ran her hand along her daughter’s blond tresses as if petting a dog. It was all Maya could do to not roll her eyes.
“Listen, Mrs. Stevenson,” Maya fired back. “My daughter is not a hoodlum.” She took a step closer to Mrs. Stevenson, and, through a tight smile, continued, “If Samantha took a swing at Brittany, you may want to investigate Brittany’s behavior.”
Mrs. Stevenson raised her chin. “How dare you suggest that someone of my daughter’s stature would stoop to anything unsavory?”
Maya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Didn’t that shop owner press shoplifting charges against your daughter?”
“Only because your daughter somehow convinced him of her own innocence. So my daughter was left taking the blame.”
“Because Samantha apologized and worked after school for two weeks to pay off what she took.”
Mrs. Stevenson arched an eyebrow. “As if a Stevenson would work in a shop.”
“Just tell your daughter to lay off mine.”
“Maybe,” she said, shaping those bright red lips into a sneer, “ifyourdaughter had a strongmaleinfluence, she could be kept in line. I honestly don’t understand how people with your...”
“With mywhat?” Maya spoke slowly through gritted teeth and took a step into the other woman’s personal space. “Brown skin?”
Mrs. Stevenson’s mouth gaped open, her eyes wide in horror. “I was going to say‘lack of stature’are allowed admission to an institution such as this.”
MAYASMIRKEDANDtook a step back. “Well, you’re here, so clearly, they’ll let anybody in.” It shouldn’t feel good to watch this woman squirm, but it totally did, and Maya didn’t even try to hide her satisfaction.
“You’ll certainly be hearing from our lawyer.” Mrs. Stevenson turned on her heel and stalked away. “Come, Brittany.” Brittany glared at Samantha and Maya before she stomped off behind her mother like a duckling.
Samantha’s brown eyes were filled with anger, her nostrils flared with the effort of trying not to cry. Maya sighed and pulled her daughter in for a hug.
Samantha succumbed to her mother’s embrace, much as she had when she was a little girl. “Mom!” Her voice cracked as the tears were set free.
“Seriously, sweetheart?” Maya hugged her tight, keeping her voice low. “Did you have to hit her?”
Samantha pulled back and wiped her eyes even as she set her jaw. “Mom, she deserved it! She—”
“Ms. Rao. You’re late.” The voice was familiar, as was the slow and mocking tone. Maya turned to face the vice principal.
“Mrs. Pappenberger.” Maya forced her mouth into an overly polite smile and bit back a retort about the flying broom that Mrs. Stevenson must have used to make it on time. “So sorry.”
