“Thanks so much for coming. It’s wonderful to have you. Women in mathematics don’t exactly get a lot of airtime, so when Paige suggested this, I jumped at the chance to have you speak.”
Aubrey channeled her gratitude into a smile. “Thanks. This means a lot to me, because this is where my love for math was born. It’s an honor to share that with the next generation.”
Mrs. Runge beamed.
As Aubrey took a place at the head of the class, a sea of bright faces followed her. Paige sat up front, but Aubrey directed her attention to the room at large, launching into an impassioned description of her work. She talked about math’s utility, not only as a tool to challenge oneself, but as a means to better the world. The possibilities were endless, limited only by the imaginations of those applying numbers to real-world concepts.
Twenty pairs of eyes followed her, each one vivid with the clarity of youth, and a twinge gripped her heart. This room held so much hope. So many dreams. She prayed none of these kids would tie their lives in knots the way she had.
When she finished, a boy with buck teeth raised his hand. “Can I ask how you made the decision not to teach? Isn’t that what most math PhDs end up doing?”
“It is,” Aubrey said. “And I’d encourage anyone who feels drawn to teaching to pursue it, because teachers are the lifeblood that sustains the future of mathematics. But I neededsomething hands-on. Non-academia is definitely a less-traveled path, and a tough one to navigate, because it’s hard to find the employers that need you. Those jobs don’t typically get posted online, and it takes a lot of networking to find them. But for me, it was worth the effort. Knowing I was making a difference fulfilled me in ways nothing else could have. Working at Osos was the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done.”
Her voice warbled at the end, and she clamped her lips shut, clearing the air for another question. The last thing she needed was to lose her cool in front of twenty strangers. Well, nineteen strangers and the daughter of the first, and possibly only, man she’d ever loved.
A girl with tightly woven braids raised her hand. “What’s it like, being a woman in math? Have you had more challenges to contend with than a man would have?”
“Yes,” Aubrey said frankly. “And it isn’t fair, getting held to a higher standard than your male counterparts. Having to prove your chops over and over while your colleagues get accepted at face value. But you deal with it. You keep doing the work, and at the end of the day, no one can argue with results. At least, that’s how I always looked at it.”
The girl nodded, seemingly satisfied.
When the kids’ curiosity had run its course, they applauded. As the students filed out, Paige gathered her things. “Can I meet you in the parking lot?”
“Of course,” Aubrey said.
Paige slipped out the door, but Aubrey hung back, letting Mrs. Runge pump her hand with even more bone-crushing force the second time. “That was wonderful,” the woman said.
Aubrey blushed. “Thanks. It was my pleasure.”
They chatted, and when Mrs. Runge finally released her, Aubrey made her way outside, where she breathed into her chilledhands and surveyed the parking lot. The place had changed so much in seventeen years. In her day, the lot had been dirt.
“Hey. Thanks for meeting me.”
Aubrey turned, then stilled, her stomach sinking. Bluish shadows collected beneath Paige’s eyes, stark in the jaunty sunshine. A white knit hat with a perky pompom capped off her strawberry-blond pigtail braids, but even the cheeriness of the hat and hairstyle couldn’t obscure the tension clouding Paige’s expression.
“Hey. Are you okay? You’re not still sick, are you?”
Paige let out a mournful chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”
“Well. Yeah. It’s kind of like someone turned your eleven down to a five.”
“Sorry. I’m just... yeah, not feeling great. My stomach’s been weird all week.”
Aubrey’s lips pressed together. Just like with the text, Paige’s tone was off, her voice brittle. Aubrey probed her mind for reasons a sixteen-year-old girl might suffer from nausea for nearly a week, then came to rest on one that made her heart shrink.
She scanned Paige again, but the girl wasn’t glowing the way Megan was. Far from it.
She was probably way off base, then. At least, shehopedshe was way off base.
“Do you... need to talk?” she ventured.
Paige chewed at the inside of her cheek. “Actually, yeah. I have a question for you. It’s going to sound totally insane, but I have my reasons, I promise.”
Icy dread slid down Aubrey’s spine. She suddenly wanted very much not to hear whatever came next. What if this was about Nick? Their shared past? “This isn’t... something you should be asking your dad instead, is it?”
Paige glanced down, guilt stamped across her features. “No.I mean, I know you and he were... well, you guys knew each other pretty well in high school, it turns out.”
All the blood drained from Aubrey’s face.
