Wrapped in a fresh dressing gown, Angeline sat at the vanity and avoided looking at her tired reflection in the mirror.
Mama didn’t look better. Her paleness was concerning. She hadn’t spoken a word from the moment they’d left the hospital. Fatigue bruised her eyes, and her lips were pressed into a flat line.
“Mama.” Angeline caressed her bandaged arm. “I was thinking of visiting Mr. Alexander to know how he’s faring in the next few days.”
Mama gave a brusque nod.
“How are you? Sit here.” Angeline patted the stool next to her. “Why are you so quiet? I’m worried.”
Mama did as told. “I’m all right.” She rearranged the pots of cream and rouge.
“You’re in shock. The fire scared me, too.” She held her mother’s hand. “But we’re alive.”
Mama shook her head. “It’s not the fire. I mean… what happened today was awful, but it made me think about our lives. You got injured.”
“It’s nothing.”
“I beg to differ. The wound might get infected, but don’t worry. I’ll use all my knowledge of medicinal herbs to make sure you heal properly.” Unshed tears shone in her eyes.
“I trust you, Mama.”
Her mother wiped a tear quickly. “If you’d died today?—”
“Don’t say that.” Angeline squeezed her mother’s hands.
“I couldn’t have borne it.” She sobbed. “I can’t go on without you.”
“But I’m here.”
Mama didn’t seem to listen. “And if I’d died today, you would have been alone, unprotected, vulnerable.”
“But you’re here.” Angeline hugged her mother, inhaling the familiar lavender scent.
“You don’t understand.” Mama disentangled from the embrace. “There are things you don’t know about me, about what I do. Things that will put you in danger.”
She easily believed that. Statistics and probabilities weren’t her forte. She wouldn’t last five minutes handling the stock market. But danger? “I don’t understand anything about the stock market. Only you can invest money so successfully.”
“Darling.” Mama’s black eyes turned darker. “I don’t invest any money in the stock market. I don’t understand finance better than you do. In fact, I hate statistics.”
“What are you talking about? You’re a genius.” Besides, why were they discussing the stock market instead of the trauma of the fire? “You have a talent for numbers I don’t possess. We have a lovely house and food on our table, thanks to your business skills.”
“No.” Mama gripped Angeline’s shoulders. “I lied to you. For years. The money I earn is from…” She took a shuddering breath.
“Yes?” Angeline stretched out her good arm, ready to catch her mother if she fainted. Mama paled further, and her eyes grew wider by the minute. “What is it?”
“You are going to hate me.”
Angeline let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I could never hate you. Tell me the truth. You’re scaring me.”
“I have tumbles with rich gentlemen,” she said all in one breath.
Angeline tilted her head. “Would you say that again?”
“Our money comes from the tumbles I have with gentlemen.” Mama shot each word as if they were bullets.
The world shifted on its axis. It was a good thing Angeline was sitting because she would have fallen to the floor.
“You have tumbles in exchange for money?” Goodness. Considering they lived a comfortable life, Mama had to have a string of clients. But it couldn’t be possible.
