She had never been enthusiastic about my love for astronomy, although as a good Chinese mother she couldn’t exactly tell me not to pursue science. Instead she often implied that I wasn’t entirely cut out for it, or that my interest in it would die after high school. I generally avoided thinking about my relationship with her, but even I was aware that that was one of the main reasons I applied to MIT—to prove her wrong.

“I’m taking an astronomy course on video,” I said stiffly. Grandpa was frozen on-screen in mid-gesticulation, his face distorted into a look of surprise.

“You are?”

“Yeah. Grandpa recorded one of his classes on video and I’m watching it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s lucky for you. You can get a jump start on the fall.”

“I’m just watching it for fun.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Mom said, “Your grandpa wasn’t the only scientist in the family, you know. One of my cousins or aunts—I don’t know the exact relation—she was an engineer, I think. She worked at that place in Los Angeles. The one that builds rockets. You know the one? Your father’s sister works there.”

“The Jet Propulsion Lab.”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“You never told me that before.”

“I forgot. I think it was my cousin Eddie’s sister who worked there. Eddie just sent me a video of his grandson. He won a piano competition.”

I wondered if this was the cousin Dad had mentioned, but I didn’t ask for more details. In my experience, it was best if I said as little as possible on the phone with her, because that made her get to the point faster, and she always had a point.

“Listen, I have good news. I’m flying out to Hong Kong in a few weeks and I have a brief layover in San Francisco, so I can see you.”

My gut clenched. “Oh. Really?”

“It’s less than twenty-four hours, but there’s time for me to meet you for lunch at the hotel.” Her voice lowered, as if she were getting serious. “Aria, I’m sorry I’ve been in Europe for so much of this year. I wish I could’ve been with you. You’re becoming a young woman and you need your mother’s guidance more than ever.”

I said in a tight voice, “I’m fine, Mom.”

“You need to take a step back and think about who you’ve been spending your time with.”

“I’m not spending my summer with anyone now,” I snapped.

“You need the time to yourself,” Mom said, her tone hardening. “And we need to talk. In person, not over the phone. I need to look in your face and see what kind of a girl you’ve become. I wouldn’t raise my daughter to—to expose herself like that.”