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“Sweet love,” he says, his tone gentling, “Shae is having an issue, and I think we all need to have a family meeting.”

Mama gives me a look up and down, squinting, but instead of rolling her eyes or siding with me, she slides into the loveseat opposite Daddy.

“What’s going on, baby?” Mama’s voice is soft, and it makes me want to cry. Like, big ol’ sobs.

“And don’t you lie to us, Shae Olivya. Whatever it is, we can figure it out.” His face goes a little slack. “You aren’t…you aren’t pregnant, are you?”

He looks so horrified, I rush to correct him.

“Dad, no!” I sit up straight, turning to look at both parents. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“Then what is it?” Mom asks, giving me her full attention. With both their gazes assessing me as if I’m a puzzle, fiery fingers crawl up my chest, ringing my neck.

“It’s just that…” I suck in air through trembling lips, and Mom’s frown returns. “It’s just that…I-I’m not s-sure if I want to go to Harvard.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it’s like all panic turns off like a light switch. I look at Mom, distracted by her sudden relieved smile, and take in a slow breath just to make sure I can.

“I’ve been thinking about it and?—”

“I…I beg your pardon?” Dad’s voice cuts through, heavy with incredulity. I almost don’t want to look at him, but it’s time I faced this.

It’s time I faced him.

“Dad, I know this seems like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I promise it’s not. I haven’t made a decision yet, but?—”

“You haven’t made a decision? What— You haven’t turned in your decision letter?”

“No,” I squeak, feeling about ten years old. “I still have a week and a half before the deadline.”

Daddy rocks back in his chair, the leather squeaking beneath his weight.

“Well, I guess thank the good Lord for you having some sense.”

“Reginald!” Mama breaks in. “Calm down and let’s hear what Shae has to say.”

Daddy opens his mouth, but Mama holds out her palm, silencing him with the movement and the deadly look in her gaze.

“Okay, baby. What’s got you on the fence? Are you scared you won’t do well there? Because I can tell you right now, Iknowyou’ll do amazingly well.”

I smile, and those tears rush back to the surface.

“I know I can work hard, Mama. I know once I have my foot in the door, I can succeed. But it’s just that…” I look back at thescreen, Joan, Lynn, Maya, and Antoinette surround that iconic sofa, frozen in whatever huge drama is going on in their lives that will be sorted within the remaining twelve minutes of the episode.

“It’s just that, I don’t know if I want to work that hard. I want to be here, helping people. Making a difference.”

“You can make a differenceandhave a Harvard degree,” Mama says, her voice gentle.

“Yes, but what’s the point? Why would I do it? So I cansayI went to Harvard? So you both can have something to brag about after church?”

“Watch yourself, Shae Olivya,” Daddy says, a drop of spit flying from his mouth. I hate putting him through this, but this…indecision is killing me.

I don’t know what to do.

“What I need is your counsel,” I say, placing my hands on my chest as if to control my racing heart. “What I’m saying is I don’t knowwhatto do. I have so many thoughts and fears and considerations rolling around in my brain, and I don’t know what to choose. I need…I need your help.”

Not your judgment.

Mama and Daddy are silent for a long moment, but then my father breaks it.