Reena put her hand up. “This is why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want to work with Dad, and I can find something new on my own.”

“But, Reena! This is the third time you’ve lost your job! You need a new—”

“I’ll find one! I just had an interview with your poker buddy, remember? And since when do you play high-stakes poker?”

Mum waved her hand at Reena. “It’s not high stakes. We play with small change.”

“But it’s gambling!”

Mum just waved her hand. “Your father doesn’t know everything I do.”

Reena shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. “It’s against Islam.” Which, Reena accepted, didn’t mean much coming from her.

“I know. But it’s small money, and when I win I always donate it to charity. It’s just fun, Reena. Giovanna convinced me to come years ago, and I enjoy it.”

That’s who Vanna was. Giovanna Pelozzi was the little Italian lady across the street from her parents. Reena didn’t remember her having purple hair. The realization didn’t do much to make this whole situation make sense.

“So Dad doesn’t know?”

“No.” Mum sighed. “I am not playing to win or lose, only to enjoy time with my friends. It exercises my brain. I’m at peace with my choice to play, but I know your father wouldn’t understand.”

Reena closed her eyes, blowing her hair out of her face. She’d known her family kept secrets, and she’d known they were a little … well … odd, but this took the cake. Her aging, Muslim mother playing in a ladies’ poker league? What would come next, news that her father had secret tattoos?

She peered again at her mother’s face. Calm. Stoic. Small purse to her lips and narrowing to her eyes, but no betrayal whatsoever that she was ruffled about getting caught. Reena couldn’t help it, she snort-laughed. It was actually perfect. Who would have a better poker face than someone who never revealed her true self, ever?

Reena stood. “This has been … educational, but I need to go. Can I assume we have an agreement? I’ll keep hush about your secret card shark life, and you let me continue my job search without letting Dad know.”

“Reena, I’m your mother. You can’t—”

“Mum, please. Just let me try to deal with this. If I need help, I’ll come to you. But trust me to live the way I choose.”

Unexpectedly, Mum stood and hugged Reena tightly. “Of course I trust you.” She released Reena and held her arms. “We love you and want to help you. All we want is for the family to be successful.”

The family to be successful. Not happy, successful. And not Reena, individually, but the family.

Actual success or the illusion of it?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The next day, Nadim left work early for the drive to Amira and Duncan’s. On the way, Reena attempted to warn him about them. She adored her friends, but for most other people, they were acquired tastes.