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When a Broadway show was requested, Jane said she would see what she could do without intending to do anything about it.Like we have time for that, love.But she would put it in her back pocket. New York City wasn’t that far away.

She didn’t bring up what had happened. Nor did she talk about Cecelia still being grounded for the foreseeable future. Jane kept thinking back on what Damon had said during his ambush lunch.“Our relationship is the most important thing.”Or something like that.

He was right. It didn’t matter how much experience, knowledge, or cynicism Jane had gone through to know what she did in her forties. Cecelia was a teenager. A spoiled one. She was going to make mistakes, have some hardships, and learn things about herself in the most painful way possible. She didn’t need Willow’s heavy-handed lectures and tough love. Nor did she need Lilian’s frivolous ability to see herself as her child’s friend more than a parent. What she needed was someone she trusted enough to go to when she was in trouble… or even had an uncomfortable question.

Because I’m not her mom, anyway.Jane had taken on the mantle of guardian, but this was still someone else’s daughter.My job is to keep her alive and sane.But if she could offer something else…

Cecelia went to take a shower and do her homework in her room. Jane mulled over what she wanted to say while cleaningup the dining table and kitchen. After changing into her pajamas, she gathered the courage to knock on her niece’s door.

“What?” came a disinterested voice.

Jane tried the handle. “Can we talk for a bit?” she asked before entering.

She caught a look from the bed. Cecelia was hovering over her English textbook, feet tapping together in the air while her long hair air dried on a towel wrapped around her shoulders.

“I guess. Are you gonna be mad at me?”

“No, love.” Jane left the door ajar when she entered.Not like anyone else is here.It would give her an easier escape if she had to go. “Just have a few things on my mind. I hope I am not interrupting your studies.”

Cecelia shrugged. “I am reading a short story for class. We have a quiz on it tomorrow.”

“Which one?”

“It’s called ‘The Lottery’ by Shirley Jackson.”

“My… that is… a bit heavy, innit?”

“I’ve read better.”

“Ah…” Jane approached the bed. Without another word, Cecelia sat up, pushing her book aside to make room for her aunt to sit next to her. “I want to apologize for how I acted this weekend. That was unhelpful.”

Although Cecelia stared at her, she didn’t say anything.

“I want to make you a deal. Will you hear me out?”

Still, Cecelia said nothing. Jane took that as an affirmative.

“You have your business with dating and boys and all that. All I ask is that you do not lie to me about it. If you want to go out with a boy, tell me. I do not have to meet him, but a name would be nice. I need to know who you are with in case the unthinkable happens. Trust me, I remember feeling invincible all the time, like I knew perfectly well the people I was mates with, but you never know. You could be with the best person in the world andsomething terrible happens to youboth.I am your guardian, Cece. I have to know who you are with.”

“Okay…”

“But I need some peace of mind if you are going out with boys and being quite mature with them. So, I will take you to the doctor and you can ask them all that uncomfortable rubbish about contraception. Whatever kind you want. Just know that you still should be using condoms, because STDs are…”

“Ew. Oh, my God.” Cecelia could not sound more American if she tried. “Okay, okay. Gross. Just stop talking about it.”

“Not until you emphatically agree to listen to your aunt Jane about this one thing.”

“I will!”

“Ya,then. I think you should also take a self-defense course. It is common sense here.”

“Sure.”

“That was easy.”

Cecelia pulled her comforter over her head. “I want this conversation tokindlyend.”

“Oh, come on, it is notthatbad.”