Leah turned her head to look at the children in the back seat. Cheeky had a rubber steering wheel toy connected to his car seat and was happily steering, pressing all the colored buttons and pretend-tooting his long-disabled green horn. Icy was more subdued, tracing invisible pictures on the window as she stared at the scenery. She seemed sad, Leah thought, troubled. “They’re fine, I hope.”

“You hope? Why, what’s the matter?”

“Well, you’re going to find out anyway soon enough. We’ve gotten into a bit of neighborhood controversy. My stepdaughter Shaindele—”

“The chubby, vindictive one with the personality of a politician who’s just lost an election? That one?”

“Really, Mom, she’s just a kid, a kid who recently lost her mother. Be charitable.”

“No, that’s your department. I’m your mother, and I’m allowed to not adore the little troublemaker for everything she’s done to my daughter.”

“But we get along fine now, really.”

“So why isn’t she coming with you?”

“It’s a long story, but she’s graduating in a few months. She has to study.”

“Okay, fair enough. So what is it I’m going to find out?”

“That there is this vendetta against us and we’ve been attacked.” As she spoke, Leah anxiously scanned the children’s reaction in the rearview mirror. Oh no! Chasya’s eyes—alarmed—were taking over her little face. She pressed the phone closer to her mouth and tried to whisper. “I can’t talk now. But it’s not safe for us there right now. We’ve made some very powerful people angry.”

“So what did they do? Show up with machetes?”

“It’s Boro Park, Mom, not Sinaloa.”

“But they did something, right?”

“Yes, but I can’t talk about that now because Chasya’s … Hi, Chasya”—she waved and smiled at the child’s serious face—“wants to play I Spy with me. Right, sweetie?” She nodded at the child, smiling.

“But you’re all okay, right?” There was an edge of alarm in Cheryl’s tone. She was waking up fast.

Leah looked at her bandaged knees and splinted finger. “We’ll live. Not to worry. But I can’t talk right now.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you. I’ll get you some food and meat at Super Glatt in Boca, and a brand-new barbecue.”

“Don’t forget the paper plates and plastic utensils and cups—”

“I know the drill, believe me. My parents were from Flatbush, remember?”

“I remember. Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you so much for always being there. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Cheryl felt her eyes well up from such totally unexpected (and long overdue and totally deserved, in her opinion) praise. “Well, you’re most welcome. Have a safe trip. See you in two days.”