It was the kind of day where the sun kept shifting behind clouds, causing sudden temperature drops and changes in the shadows. “I’m not sure,” Ronnie admitted, and that was kind of the truth. “But I think it’s because of my job. I dance. For men. I’m one of those, um, Topless Maids.”

Lauren and Andrea blinked. Ronnie kept talking, her face flaming hot. This was the first time she’d explained this to anyone in Raisin Beach. “My partner doesn’t know. The kindergarten teacher. And obviously my daughter doesn’t. And I’m careful—I don’t take any clients in town. But maybe someone saw me and said something.”

“So what?” Lauren finally said. “It’s a legal profession, isn’t it? You have a right to do whatever you want.”

Ronnie shrugged. It did seem petty. Then again, maybe that wasn’t all Piper knew. Jerrod. Vanessa. What she’d done. That scared her even more.

Ronnie looked at Lauren. “Why would you be getting notes?”

Lauren shrugged. “Something’s been happening to me. Ever since I had my baby, I’ve . . . I don’t know, I’ve had a hard time controlling my anger.” She looked wrecked. “The doctor calls it postpartum rage. I get so worked up, and it’s not even me in my body . . . and then sometimes, I . . .” She swallowed hard. Her eyes were suddenly wet with tears. “Sorry. I haven’t really told many people this. I haven’t even told my mom.”

“Oh my God,” Ronnie whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” Andrea said.

“I’ve got it under control, sort of, but I’m thinking someone saw me, maybe, in the middle of an episode. And reported it to the school, I don’t know.” She looked back at the loft building, which had an imposing, fortress-like quality to it. “Piper gave me the oddest look at the breakfast. Like she already knew.”

“She’s trying to run you out of the school because of a postpartum condition?” Andrea looked appalled.

“I wrote to her, explaining myself,” Lauren said. “About the rage, but also that I wanted to be part of the documentary. And you know what happened? She sent a reply to her assistant—you know, the one we thought was her kid?” She looked at Andrea, and Andrea nodded. “She didn’t mean to forward the email to me, but I got it anyway. She basically said I was nuts.”

“What?” Andrea said.

“I wonder if this has to do with the documentary?” Ronnie suggested. “Like, maybe Silver Swans doesn’t want us representing the school. It would be easier if we left.”

“Like, you mean,” Lauren started, “if one of your . . . clients, or whatever, saw you as a parent on the Silver Swans documentary, they would tell the press, and that might reflect poorly on the school?”

“Maybe,” Ronnie said.