“Your Honor,” Nola said at the hearing, hoping the spirit of the deceased old man was intervening on her behalf. “I’m a very mature twenty year old. I have a career and the financial means to support us both. I’ve hired a trained counselor to live with us; she’ll supervise Jenna when I work.” Tears streamed down Nola's cheeks. “Please. I beg you to understand that I’m her only family. Isn’t that what everyone agrees disturbed kids need most?”

“Yes, she’s disturbed, all right.” Mini-Nazi seconded the caseworker’s opinion that only an institution could give Jenna the professional care she required. Nola's consternation grew as the Suffolk County judge grilled her about the dangers of living in Manhattan and her social milieu of entertainment people. In preparation for the hearing, Wade had cut overnight travel by rescheduling Nola's upcoming months with only day-long recordings, mall appearances and local TV shows. The judge tossed the document aside and probed Nola about her previous frequent, lengthy tours. He was puzzled by her failure to send Jenna to school.

“Can’t you take a secretarial job around here?” he asked her.

“I’m a singer. I make money so the two of us could have our own home. No other twenty-year-old can maintain a home and pay for therapy on a secretary’s wages.”

“An adult may see to it that the child attends school.”

An hour after Nola had entered the courtroom, the judge ruled that she was unable to provide her sister with the stability a suburban group home would offer.

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 28

On her way to the Shanghai arena, Nola stared through the rain-streaked limousine window, intent on blocking out Wade on the seat across from hers. Whenever he caught her eye, he had the imploring look of a neglected puppy.

The enemy. At least during the short flight from Beijing, she had locked herself with Lulu in her sleeping cabin, and when they arrived at the hotel she had insisted he get a separate suite. But now he faced her, his tuxedo pants rucked up around his calves with static cling. A rare Scotch sat on the teak side table, a wet circle spreading under the glass.

His nearness in the confines of the small space drained Nola's ability to focus on her upcoming concert. She had never been late for a performance, nor had she ever failed to practice. Her critics were right: she wasn’t giving her work her all. The slack, though, was not caused by the demands of a baby but by the storm others created about her.