Page 3 of Enzo

I get scared, but I nod. “I won't ever talk about it, Mama.”

“Good boy.”

Chapter 1

MOLLY

I'm waiting for Miss T in her office. She said she had something important to discuss with me.

She’s ‘Miss Turlington’ to everyone else. I’d never dream of calling her Miss T to her face. She's disappeared somewhere and now I'm sitting here with butterflies flying around in my stomach.

I think I know what this is about.

I should never have let the children drop wet water balloons from the window of a first floor classroom in the name of science.

I love Oakleigh. I've only been here for four months, and I'm still on probation, but I felt like I belonged here from the first day. There's something about this place that makes me feel safe. Steady. Like I've finally landed somewhere I could stay.

It has a large proportion of children from low-income families, foster care, unstable homes and single-parent households. I think I can make a difference here. I can create an environment which nurtures them and shows them that they are loved, that they matter.

The school itself is a lovely red-brick building with ivy creeping up its walls. It has crazy high ceilings and huge, arched windows. It’s old, but not falling apart. Luckily, we have a generous bank of donors, or so Miss T is always telling me. Oakleigh is a magical place. I’m lucky to be able to teach here.

I pick at the loose thread of wool dangling from the sleeve of my purple cardigan,. I tug it and a hole appears.

“Oh my days,” I moan, and try to push the loose yarn through the hole, out of sight. A clanging sound comes from one of the old radiators behind Miss T’s chair. I look up and wonder where she is. It's morning recess, but I need to get back before recess is over.

Miss T suddenly appears, carrying a steaming cup of something which she sets on the desk. She’s in her late fifties and has been at the school for almost thirty years, first as a kindergarten teacher and, for the last eleven, as the headmistress.

She’s tall and sturdily built, and has the type of presence that can easily quiet a room without her even needing to say a word. Her short hair, peppered black and white, is full and softly rounded around her face.

Most people when they first meet her are slightly intimidated by her, but I find her to be all softness and warmth. She’s been especially good to me since I started here. More than good. She took me under her wing when I was new, always checking in, always seeming to know when I needed a kind word or a cup of coffee more than I needed advice.

“Sorry about that.” She sits down and blows her nose. “Honey, lemon and hot water; it’s supposed to work.” She looks at me. I smile back.

“I see you’re nice and bright, as always.”

“I like to spread color everywhere, especially when it’s so gray and dull outside.”

She nods, then pulls out something from a cream-colored envelope. She stares at it for the longest time.

“One of our biggest donors to the school is hosting a …” She pauses again, her eyes fixated on whatever she’s reading.

Relief washes over me. At least I’m not here for the water balloons.

“A what, Miss Turlington?”

“A masked ball at the Doge’s Palace in Venice. It’s next week, but I can't go to this, Molly.”

She holds it out for me to see. It’s a classy invite with its embossed gold lettering on cream-colored paper.

By Invitation Only

Luca Valizar

requests the pleasure of your company

for

An Evening of Masks