He felt faint. But then a sudden anger shot through him like righteous wrath. “Well, in that case, please tell the rabbi that we’ll come only if his son Duvie is also there. Either that, or we’ll come to talk to him when I get home from work. And,” he added pointedly, “Shaindele comes home from school.” He hung up. It didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.

“Seven o’clock,” the woman said.

“Seven thirty,” he answered firmly, then hung up.

“What should I wear?” Leah asked him, almost trembling.

“Why, Leah-le, you always look beautiful and modest. Wear whatever you always wear, my love.”

Comforted, but not convinced, she put on her longest sleeves and highest neck, the blouse she called her “frum fantasy.” It was an itchy material, and the collar, so high, grazed her ears with annoying frequency. The cuffs, made of some ruffled pattern, were useless anywhere except the synagogue, where all you had to do was hold a prayer book; even just washing out a cup, they’d be soaked and ruined. The skirt was equally useless. Midcalf and A-line, its dark blue linen wrinkled the moment you sat down or bent over. But it was the right length and suitably boring. The hair was the easiest problem to solve. A wide turban allowed her to heap her abundant curls to the top of her head, tying them down with so many hairpins that a wisp had as much chance of escaping as the Boston Bomber. No makeup, she decided. Nothing.

Yaakov looked her over and smiled. “You look like a nun.” He chuckled.

“I just want it to be all right. For Shaindele.”

He inhaled. “We don’t have to impress him. He has a lot of explaining to do, and he knows it, my love. He is the one who should be ashamed of himself. To raise such a son!”

She listened to him with surprise. After all, a call from the principal’s office had been their worst nightmare in all this, no? Yet Yaakov seemed not only calm but indignant and more than ready to do battle. Shaindele appeared in her school uniform, her face closed but calm and without a trace of the fear and dread Leah had expected. It was actually impressive, the two of them, Leah thought, surprised.

“Ready?” Yaakov asked his daughter gently.

In response, she shrugged.

Leah reached out, caressing her shoulder. “We are going to be there with you the whole time. No one will dare to hurt or insult you. Whatever you’ve done, you didn’t do it all by yourself.”

Yaakov, hearing her, winced but did not contradict her. Even if he had wanted to, it was too late, as the teenage daughter of their upstairs neighbor, hired to babysit, walked in, ending their privacy.

He reached out to his daughter. “Come, child.”