“I know.”

Her grandmother’s words on that long-ago summer came back to her. Your mama does her best, Adrian.

“I know,” she repeated. “And you ought to trust me not to do something to embarrass you. If not, then you ought to know I’d never want to upset or disappoint Popi and Nonna. I just want to go to goddamn school.”

Lina closed her eyes. She could force it—she was in charge. But at what cost? And for what benefit?

“I don’t want you going out past nine, or leaving the neighborhood—unless it’s to go to Mimi’s in Brooklyn.”

“If I wanted to go to the movies on a Friday or Saturday night, it might be ten.”

“Accepted, but you’ll check in with me or Mimi in that case. I don’t want you letting anyone into the apartment while I’m gone—excepting Mimi and her family. Or Harry. He’s going with me, but he may fly back for a day.”

“I’m not looking for company. I’m looking for stability.”

“One of us—me, Harry, or Mimi—will phone every night. I won’t say when.”

“Spot-checking me?”

“There’s a difference between trusting you to be responsible and taking chances.”

“Accepted.”

The breeze stirred through Lina’s hair, the roasted chestnut sweep of it. “I … I thought you enjoyed the travel.”

“Some of it. Sometimes.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll arrange for you to go to Mimi’s or your grandparents’, or to fly out to meet me wherever I am.”

Because she knew her mother would do any of those things, and without too much I-told-you-soing, Adrian felt something soften inside her. “Thanks, but I’m going to be fine. School’s going to keep me busy, and I’m researching colleges. And I’ve got a project I want to start.”

“What project?”

“I have to think about it some more.” At sixteen, Adrian knew how to evade, and breezily. She also knew how to distract.

“Plus, I need to go buy a five-pound bag of M&M’s, a couple gallons of Coke, five or six bags of potato chips. You know, basic supplies.”

Lina smiled a little. “If I thought you meant that, I might knock you out and drag you with me. I have to go. The car’s going to be here soon. I’m trusting you, Adrian.”

“You can.”

Lina bent down, kissed the top of Adrian’s head. “It’ll be late here by the time I land in L.A., so I won’t call. I’ll text.”

“Okay. Have a safe trip, and a good tour.”

With a nod, Lina started back inside. Something twinged inside her chest when she looked back and saw Adrian had picked up the pen again.

She continued to write as if it were any other afternoon.

As she started down the stairs to the next level, Lina took out her phone and called Mimi.

“Hey, are you on your way?”

“In a minute. Listen, Adrian’s staying here.”

“She’s what?”

“She made a good case for it. I know it’s not what you’d do, but you probably would have thought through booking a national tour on the third week of the new school year. When she’s in a new school on top of it. I didn’t. Hold a minute.”

She used her house phone to call downstairs. “Hi, Ben, it’s Lina Rizzo. If you could send someone up for my bags, please. Thanks.

“Mimi, I have to trust her. She’s never given me a reason not to. And, Jesus, she’s tougher than I realized, so good for her, I guess. Would you just give her a call later, see how she sounds?”

“Of course. If she wants to stay here while you’re gone, we can make that work.”

“Her mind’s set—if it changes, I guess she’ll let you know—but she’s determined and that’s that.”

“Her mother’s daughter?”

“Is she?” Lina stopped at a mirror, checked her hair, her face. In looks, yes, she thought. She saw a lot of herself in her daughter. But the rest … maybe she hadn’t paid enough attention.

“Anyway, she’ll be fine. Just call or text her now and then.”

“No problem at all. I’ll stay in touch with her, and with you. Sorry, Lina,” Mimi added as the shouts blasted through the phone. “Jacob’s apparently decided to murder his sister again. I have to go, but you have a safe trip. And don’t worry.”

“Thanks. Talk soon.”

When the buzzer rang, she walked to the door.

And put everything else aside. She had some prep to do on the plane, and a full schedule ahead of her.

CHAPTER FOUR

Alone in New York, Adrian followed her morning routine. She got up with her alarm, did her morning yoga. She showered, dealt with her hair—always a chore—applied minimal makeup—she’d always had a love affair with makeup.

She dressed in the detested school uniform—navy pants, white shirt, navy blazer. Every day she donned the uniform she vowed never to voluntarily wear a navy blazer after graduation.

She put together a breakfast of mixed fruit with Greek yogurt, a slice of ten-grain toast, and juice.

Because Mimi had ingrained the habit in her, she did her dishes, made her bed.

A quick check of the weather on her phone promised mostly sunny and continued warm, so she didn’t bother with a jacket.

She shrugged on her backpack and took the penthouse’s private elevator down.

She couldn’t complain about the five-block walk to school, especially with the weather so fine. She used the time to go over her plan—her deviation from routine.

And the single rule laid down she fully intended to break.

When her phone rang, she checked the display. “Hi, Mimi.”

“Just doing my duty.”

“You can tell Mom when she asks that I was on my way to school when you checked. Of course, instead of going there, I’m going to grab a train to the Jersey Shore and soak up some rays, use my fake ID to buy a bunch of beer, and have lots of sex with strangers in a cheap motel.”

“Good plan, but I think I’ll leave that part out of my report. I know you’re fine, honey, but checking in is the right and loving thing to do.”

“I get it.”

“Do you want to come here for the weekend?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. If that changes, you’ll find me on your doorstep.”

“If you need anything, you call me.”

“I will. Talk soon.”

With that done, she put her phone away.

She had a backup plan if her first didn’t work. But she’d done her research, and thought Plan A had real potential.

She clipped her ID on the blazer as she walked up the short stone steps to the dignified brownstone that served as a school for grades nine through twelve—if you were rich enough and smart enough.

She went inside, through the small security vestibule.

The quiet, the gleaming wood floor, the pristine walls contrasted with the noise and movement and slight dinge of her old school.

She missed it, all of it.

Two years, she reminded herself as she turned away from the wide entrance to the hall on the left. Two years and she could make her own choices.