“If they knew, they’d be so angry. And hurt.”

“They wouldn’t understand, and they wouldn’t think about it from your perspective because not many people are like you, Chloe.”

He was staring at me so intently I couldn’t look away. Surprisingly, I didn’t want to, because in his fervor, I saw his admiration for me, and maybe it was finally starting to reflect back.

“I used to think I was weak for feeling so much,” I said. “The whole community, my parents, my classmates—they all but told me so every day. It’s why I hid my real self from them, why Jing-Jing exists.”

“And yet you held on to who you are despite that.”

“You make it sound like I’ve known who I am all along, but I still don’t know. What kind of confident, strong-willed person would find herself in this mess?” I gestured to him—Drew and Andrew—in a vague circle.

“Someone who cares more about her parents’ feelings than her own.”

I sighed.

Then I noticed he was trying not to look at the check, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t told him what it was.

“It’s tuition money—a whole year’s worth.” I put it on my lap and smoothed it out, over and over. “I can’t even imagine how many extra hours she had to work for this.” I looked up at him. “This money feels tainted.”

“It’s not. If anything, you earned that by always putting them first.”

“I still lied.”

He tilted his head at me and his voice lowered, heavy with experience. “It’s never that straightforward, lies being wrong and truth being right. Or at least that’s what I tell myself before every job.”

“Does it get easier?”

“Some days.”

I stored the check in a safe place to deposit as soon as possible. The guilt clawed my stomach lining raw.

I knocked on my parents’ bedroom door quietly. After my third rap, my mother flung the door open and said, “Shh!” much louder than my gentle knocking.

“He’s sleeping!” she hissed, jerking her head toward the bed.

She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.

Then she folded her arms across her chest. “What is it?”

“Thank you so much for the gift. I can’t even… I appreciate it so—”

“It was nothing,” she said, waving a hand.

Why couldn’t either of us communicate?

“No really, it means—” I tried again, but she cut me off.

“It’s fine.”

Silence.

“Is that all?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry about what happened. With Hongbo’s parents, with Bible study, everything. I… I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” Although you hurt me more, I didn’t say.

She pursed her lips to the side and said nothing.

“Please, Mǎmá.”