But she no longer had that power or any power at all. And rightly so. Because of the Incident. An epic, front-page-of-The-Washington-Post,Saturday-Night-Live-parody-level incident.
She’d assessed a threat. And she’d been wrong. Epically, spectacularlywrong.
She’d been placed on administrative leave, pending an investigation, and would likely be fired at the end of it.
In the meantime, she was required by the Office of Employee Assistance to attend weekly sessions with a therapist to deal with the anxiety that had allegedly led her to make such a catastrophically bad call.
She was quite possibly the only person in America who had a federally mandatedtherapist.
Her fingers curled into a fist. And what if she was wrong now?
Maybe this boy wanted to take her daughter to a movie. To mini golf. To Chipotle for a burrito. Maybe he really did want to do thingswithher, nottoher. Maybe it was a typo.
But the sick feeling inside her gut told her she couldn’t dismiss this.
When the squeaking floorboards overhead had signaled that the girls had begun to stir, she’d headed upstairs and knocked softly on her oldest daughter’s bedroom door.
No answer.
She opened the door a crack. Dark silence. She entered and turned on the bedside lamp.
Caitlin threw an arm over her eyes. “Already?”
Piper smiled and pushed the wild tangles from her daughter’s face. Her beautiful face.
Piper was attractive. Pretty enough for all practical purposes. But her oldest daughter was stunning. Not pretty. Not cute. But full-on, no-exaggerationbeautiful.
So beautiful that people stared in restaurants and the grocery store. Caitlin had just started seventh grade, but she’d skipped the awkward stage, going from adorable child to gorgeous teenage girl.
And every time someone turned to stare, especially if they were male, Piper found herself wishing her daughter were plain. Unremarkable. Average.Safe.
She gazed down at her daughter’s full lips and long lashes. Should she bring it up now? Or wait?
She couldn’t wait.
“Can I talk to you about something?”
Her daughter croaked out a groan. “Seriously, Mom? It’s like four o’clock in the morning.”
“No. It’s 7:00 a.m., and you have to get up for school.”
“Ugh.” A dramatic sigh emanated from under the pillow she’d pulled over her head. “What is it?”
“This.” Her mom opened the iPad and showed her the text.
Her daughter scrambled into a sitting position, outrage emanating from every limb. “You’re reading mytexts?”
“I’mnotreading your texts. But maybe I should be. Your sister told me about it.”
Caitlin’s mouth curled into a scowl. “That little snitch.”
“She’s not a snitch.” When had her daughter started talking like a prison inmate? “She’s worried about you. And so am I.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d make it, like, afederal case.”
Piper ignored the eye roll. “It’s a very weird text, don’t you think?”
Her daughter rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Yeah,” she finally conceded. “He creeps me out.”
