Nadine sighed and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind
her.
“She asked me not to explain it.”
“She’s twelve.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Then stop treating this like some secret between the two of you.”
Nadine’s expression tightened.
“It isn’t a secret against you.”
“It certainly feels like one.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Nadine said quietly, “There’s a choir performance tomorrow night.”
I stared at her.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come.”
“Nadine.”
“Come to the performance.”
“I have work.”
The moment the words left my mouth, something flickered across her face.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
That irritated me even more.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m some terrible mother because I work.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Nadine folded her arms.
