Chapter 2

That cold, warning look. I knew it too well.

For as long as I could remember, whenever she needed me to fall in line and give her the appearance of respectability in front of others, this was exactly how she'd look at me.

The moment I showed even a flicker of defiance, what came next was either a hanger snapped across my back or a palm swung hard enough to leave my face swollen. And then, once she'd cooled down, she'd shut the door behind us. She'd press ice to the marks herself, weeping, begging forgiveness.

"Jasmine, everything Mommy does is to raise you right. I hit you so you'll remember the pain, so you won't make the same mistakes."

"You won't hate Mommy for it, will you?"

A slap, then a sweet to soothe it. I thought those suffocating days had finally ended today.

But it never occurred to me that the fifty-table acceptance party she'd thrown wasn't really to celebrate me. It was to win herself something bigger. A show of righteousness, of disowning her own flesh and blood. The glory of a mother who personally marched her Ashford University daughter into prison.

My eyes burned, rimmed red.

I shook my head. "I didn't do it. I won't admit to it."

The words had barely left my mouth when her palm came down across my face with a whistle of air.

My head snapped to the side, and for one instant my eardrum stung sharp. Then sound went strange, like it was coming through a pane of invisible glass, drifting near and far.

"Is this how I raised you? To dodge responsibility when you've done wrong? To refuse to repent, ever?"

Her chest heaved.

Every word dripped with the anguish of a mother whose child had failed to become what she'd hoped.

"You've disappointed me beyond words."

The banquet hall was enormous. Of the fifty tables of guests, most had no idea what was happening. When the officers walked in, panic rippled through the room first. Then my mother spoke, and the whispers detonated all at once.

"What? Isn't today the Turner girl's acceptance party for Ashford? How could she suddenly hurt someone? A kid with grades like hers, could it be a misunderstanding?"

"Her own mother called the police. How could there be any doubt? Good grades don't stop someone from having a black heart."

"Hester really is an expert in raising children. So principled, no favoritism at all. She's gone to such lengths for her daughter's sake. Ashford University! A daughter that accomplished, and she has her hauled off just like that."

"Isn't it the truth? Look at how heartbroken she is. The love of a parent, honestly. To keep her child from going down the wrong path, she personally sends her own daughter in. Think of the resolve that takes. Her heart must be bleeding. Truly noble."

My mother pressed a hand to her chest, then slowly straightened her spine.

"If a child goes untaught, the fault lies with the mother. As much as it breaks my heart, I have to make my child understand right from wrong. No one try to talk me out of it."

"Officers, take my daughter away. This is something I will never forgive."

The two officers exchanged a glance. In the end they couldn't win against my mother.

They had no choice but to take me in for a statement first.

At the police station.

A female officer sat across from me. She flipped through her notes and asked, almost offhand.

"Young lady, do you know why you're here?"

I clenched my hands around the fabric of my pants, but my voice came out level.

"Because my cousin drank my mango juice and had an allergic reaction."

My mother shoved the door open and struck my face again. It landed on the ear that was already stinging.

I felt something trickling out, and I clapped my sleeve over my ear in a panic.

Seeing it only spurred her on.

"You dare lie right in front of the officers. That was on purpose! On purpose, do you understand? You meant to hurt her."

"Every time I taught you to live decently, to be an upright, honest person, did a single word of it ever get through to you?"

"Now you're scared? Where was all this before?"

The officer stepped in at once. "Ma'am, this is the Police Department. Do not lay a hand on the child."

My mother let out a breath and stepped back to the side.