Page 19

MIA

On Monday, the world starts pitching curveballs.

It’s now been two days since I sold my soul to the devil. Two days since the devil has been ghosting me, making me lie awake at night, wondering if it was all a dream: the diner, the wedding, everything.

On those nights, I pad to the kitchen and pull out the contract to read.

It’s real, I tell myself as my fingers brush over the printed words. He’ll call. He will. He’s probably just busy.

When I go take out the trash on Monday morning, however, I realize exactly what Yulian Lozhkin has been busy with.

“Ma’am.” The gorillas at my door salute in unison. “Good morning.”

The garbage bag dangles from my fingers. The hell… ?

“Let us get that for you.”

One gorilla plucks my trash from my hand. The other plants himself in front of the door, as if daring anyone to try and come in. Which is a bit inconvenient, because I was kind of hoping to get back in there.

“Okay, what is this?” I demand. “Who are you? Why are you guarding my door?”

“Boss’s orders,” one grunts.

The vein at my temple starts pulsing. “I never gave permission for this.”

“You didn’t need to, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

Say “ma’am” one more time. I’ll shove it up your ass faster than a suppository. “I want to speak to Yulian. Now.”

“That’s not possible, ma’am.”

“He doesn’t want to be disturbed, ma’am.”

“Well, tough.” I fish my phone out of my pocket. “He’s about to be.”

Then I storm back into my apartment and slam the door.

I type the text with shaking hands. Not out of fear, but rage. Why the hell are there mobsters at my door?

Yulian’s reply comes way too quickly for a busy man. Insurance, he types back.

My vein pulses harder. I fucking knew it. Give a billionaire an inch, and he’ll take the whole damn neighborhood and bulldoze it to pave the way for luxury condos.

Too bad I’m not going to let him have his way. I’ve had enough of this attitude—I know where it leads.

This time, I’m nipping that shit in the fucking bud.

My place, 3 P.M., I type. Ghost me and the deal’s off.

Then I put my phone on silent.

“Mommy?” Eli whispers as we head out. “Are those spies?”

“Not at all.” I force a smile. “Just… new friends.”

I calm myself on the drive to the Upper East Side. Rhonda the Honda splutters and splatters, echoing my state of mind.

Yulian—how dare he? How dare he put my building, my family, under surveillance?

I may have promised him my soul, but my freedom stays mine.

When we get out of the car, Eli’s eyes go wide. “ This is my new school?”

“Could be.” I take him by the hand and lead him through the gates of Rainbow Infinity. “If we like it.”

With every step we take, his eyes grow wider. I can’t blame him—this place looks nothing like Happy Hares. That school looked like it was held together with spit and plaster.

But this?

White walls. Green gardens. Clean corridors. The outside looks like a miniature college campus—and the inside? It’s like those blonde-wood-and-lush-green-plants millennial offices using bouncy balls as desk chairs.

“Ms. Winters!” A smiling, middle-aged man comes to greet me. “I’m Principal Garcia. So glad you could make it.” His eyes crinkle as he crouches down. “And this young knight must be Eli.”

Eli nods, not quite meeting Mr. Garcia’s gaze, but Mr. Garcia doesn’t look put off in the slightest. He doesn’t try to touch him or invade his personal space in any way. Just gets back up with the same benevolent smile and says, “You’re right on time for our mid-morning snack.”

We’re shown into a big, bright room. I leave Eli to the care of a Ms. Lawrence and the attention of eleven curious pairs of eyes.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” I tell him.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Then I follow Mr. Garcia into his office. Again, I’m amazed at how well the walls are holding up.

“Coffee?” he offers. “Water?”

“Water would be great, thanks.”

He gives me a glass with cucumber in it. I almost want to cry—everything here is so damn nice. Is this what it’s like to be rich?

Mr. Garcia gives me the gist of the school: stimulating activities, Montessori method, the whole shebang. When I ask about their handling of AuADHD kids, he seems perfectly at ease. He assures me every teacher has specialized training in neurodiversity, as well as diversity training in general.

“We want this school to be a safe space,” he explains. “Here, you’re met with acceptance and support, no matter your needs. We also have zero tolerance for bullying.”

Tears prickle at my eyes. Mr. Garcia discreetly slides a box of tissues over to me. “Diane is a dear friend of mine. She mentioned you’ve both been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” I rasp. “It’s, uhh—it’s been a bit of a ride.”

“You’re safe here,” he assures me. “Both of you.”

Safe.

What a concept.

“It’s wonderful,” I laugh, my voice wobbling a bit too hard. “This place. It’s—it’s a dream.”

“But an expensive one,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“I understand. Believe me, I do.”

“I—I might be coming into some money soon,” I blurt. “I’m not certain it’ll pan out, but if it does…”

“We’ve got a spot open right now,” Mr. Garcia says. “Usually, you’d have to be put on our waitlist, but like I said, Diane’s a friend. I can hold your spot until the end of the month.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do.”

It’s the first lucky break I’ve had in ages. I hadn’t even realized how badly I needed it.

“Thank you,” I croak. “Really. I just… Just, thank you.”

By the time I’ve dried my eyes and made my way back to the classroom, Eli bounds up to me, his shyness completely gone.

“Mommy!” he squeals. “I made friends!”

“That’s wonderful, baby!”

“Can he stay?” a little girl with cornrows pleads. “Please?”

“Please, Mommy?” Eli joins in.

I want to say yes so bad. “Not today, munchkin. We need to get our ducks in a row first. Lots of paperwork to do.”

“Then can I stay after the paperwork?”

“If everything goes smoothly.” It’s the most I can promise without lying. “Now, say goodbye to your new friends. We’ll be late for lunch with Aunt Kallie.”

I watch Eli part with a whole gaggle of kids. It makes my heart crack in my chest—that I don’t know if I can give him this.

We drive back to the apartment. Kallie’s supposed to meet us at the bagel place two blocks over in half an hour. I unbuckle Eli, pick him up?—

—and see a black Maybach parked right across the street.