Influenced by Eva Robinson (best free ebook reader TXT) 📗

Hannah’s eyebrows crept up. “Oh?”

“You must understand educational inequality and things like that, right?”

“Well, sure. You mean like funding inequalities between districts?”

“Apple saaaah!” It was a frantic screech from Nora this time, less coherent. “Apple saaaah!” Hannah felt her body going into panic mode, heat pounding. Nora was hungry, and that was a crisis.

Rowan looked unbothered by the unfolding catastrophe, and she ran a hand through her dark curls. “I have some academic friends who are trying to raise money for a teen center in Cambridge. They’re applying for some grants, and I want to help raise money for the building too. But I need some help with the writing. I’m so bad at it, and people jump all over you if you say the wrong thing.”

After a gap year or two, Rowan had gone to Harvard. Why was she talking about herself like she was an idiot?

Hannah’s grip had tightened on the stroller, and she was fighting the impulse to rush Nora home to eat.

“There’s a teen center in Brookline,” Hannah said. “Depending on income levels, not all kids have access to afterschool learning, or things to keep them out of trouble. A teen center can help equalize education opportunities. And then there’s the school-to-prison pipeline—”

“Hungeeeeeeeeee!” shrieked Nora.

Hannah squeezed the stroller handles so tightly that she worried she might break them. “Anyway, it sounds like an interesting project.”

Rowan’s eyes lit up. “But this is amazing! This is like fate. I knew you’d understand it all. Can you help me with the writing? Every time I try to write something, I feel like I’m getting it wrong.”

Hannah’s pulse was now pounding out of control. She was losing the ability to think about how to phrase things tactfully when she had Nora’s hunger crisis to contend with.

She started rolling the stroller back and forth, as if that would somehow fix the starvation. “Right, sure I can help you. The thing is, Rowan, I just quit my job. And I need to find a new one somehow, so I might be busy. I need to find a way to earn money soon.”

“But you’re a psychologist,” said Rowan, as if that fact alone were the answer to all her problems.

“True, but I might have burned my bridges at work, so I don’t have any references for a new job.” Now was the time to ask, and yet after two days of planning, Hannah still didn’t know how to bring this up. Now or never. “Was it hard to… get into what you do?”

“Writing?”

“Well, yes, I want to write also. But I meant Instagram. Because that’s how you got the book deal, right?”

Rowan blinked. “Oh, are you thinking of doing sponsored content? What’s your handle?” Already she was scrolling on her phone.

Sponsored content. Hannah didn’t even know the right language. She was starting to deeply regret all this, and her cheeks started to burn. “Oh, I don’t have much of a following. HannahBookAddict. It’s just book reviews.”

“Nora hungeeeeeeeeeee! Nora eat dinner. Hot dog. Peanut-butter honey sandwich. French fries, Nora eating!”

Oh, great. A junk food litany.

Rowan didn’t seem to notice.

“I found you!” said Rowan. “You do have a good eye. I like the hot chocolate with the romance book. Some people earn money for book reviews. I could tag you in my stories, might get you some more follows. You know, when you help me with the writing.”

Now, Hannah’s mood was brightening. “Do you think?”

“But it would take a while to get it going. Psychologists do testing, though, right? People will pay a lot for the right test.”

About four thousand dollars. How did Rowan know that? “Yes, I do have a license for private testing,” said Hannah, “but I don’t have a client base. I’d need to make connections, maybe get a website—”

Rowan waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about clients. I can find them for you. My parents are looking for someone to test my sister, actually. You know, for the college boards. They had her tested by someone, but… she didn’t give the recommendations they wanted.”

“Are they looking for someone now?” Not the glamorous world of posing on French balconies, but it would pay Hannah’s rent.

“Yes, and they know tons of people who want testing also. You know, the public-school testing doesn’t recommend extra time for everyone.”

“Right. Well, not everyone has a disability.”

Rowan cocked her head. “Of course. But the things is… when people are paying all that money for a report, they’re going to want the extra time. Otherwise there’s no point in paying for it.”

Hannah’s stomach fell. There was always a way to come up with a diagnosis. But it was such an unfair advantage for wealthy students.

“Are you interested?” asked Rowan.

Nora had now collapsed into full-blown screaming, and Hannah was all out of patience.

Thing was, she had a responsibility to take care of her daughter, didn’t she? She’d screwed it up yesterday when she’d quit her job. This was her chance to fix it. With this kind of money, she could give Nora the financial security she needed. And really, if anyone was to blame, it was the college boards for not giving kids enough time to demonstrate what they knew.

“Yes, I’m interested.”

Rowan grinned. “Perfect. I think we should get together soon, Hannah. I want to show you off to my friends. Send me your number through Instagram, and I’ll check my messages. My friends are throwing a party soon—you should come.”

Hannah grinned.

They said their goodbyes, and she hurried off into the breezy night, eager to get Nora home.

But as she rushed home to Somerville, goosebumps rose on her skin, and she cast a look behind her. For some reason, she had the eerie feeling that someone had been watching them.

Twelve

Ciara sat at her new desk, ignoring her rising hunger as she searched online for information about Arabella Green. She had her earbuds in and she was playing her favorite band, the one whose name she had tattooed on her wrist—Meute. A German