She tried to play it cool by barely reacting to what I’d said, but I noticed her jaw tightening. Then her eyes scrutinized me, narrow and prying as if she was trying to read me, but before I had a moment to think, she blurted, “Of course your parents are welcome at Bible study. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up about what happened at the party. Just a little spilled tea in the past.”

She stood and smoothed out her dress, waiting for me to stand as well.

I was still recovering from the whiplash when she shoved me outside with a final “I’ll let your mother know myself!” before slamming the door behind me.

I stood for a moment on the front steps, replaying her expressions, and I realized she had been trying to figure out if I had it in me to betray their secrets.

I almost started laughing.

If I didn’t say a word, it wasn’t officially blackmail, right?

Chloe CHAPTER 52 MOVING FORWARD

My parents were already home from work when I returned from the Kuos. I went into the kitchen and tried to be as nonchalant as I could by pretending I was a Rent for Your ’Rents operative.

“Where were you?” my mother asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Out.” I opened the refrigerator.

My mother followed me over. “Well, the strangest thing just happened—Kuo Ǎyí called and said she’s looking forward to seeing me at the next Bible study.” She grabbed the fridge door and opened it further so she could pop her head next to mine briefly. “Jing-Jing, do you know anything about this?”

“That’s great, Mā,” I said, not looking up from my rummaging. “I’m glad this is all over with.”

When I shut the refrigerator door, she was standing next to me, her eyes shiny.

“Did you do this?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered, hoping she wouldn’t ask me for details.

“That… is… appreciated,” she said slowly, the in-between pauses punctuating that there was more she didn’t know how to say.

She pulled me into a hug. It stunned me so much I dropped the leftover (non-Franken-) bāo in my hand.

Was this actually happening?

She squeezed me, and I wrapped my arms around her tiny body.

But as soon as I allowed myself to enjoy it, she pulled away and wiped her eyes.

“I’m glad we can finally move forward,” she said. “I’m ready to accept Andrew with open arms—him, his family, and his family money.” She laughed, signaling it was a joke, but I had to force my chuckle out. Because I knew it was only part joke; she did actually care about all three of those things, and not in that order. “Well, I’m ready to accept him as long as you’re not really pregnant,” she added with another laugh.