“Anyway, I just want to say thank you for being part of the tribe. You mean so much to me, and I hope that this year will be a bright spot after a bit of clouds.” There was a smattering of applause, but she held up a finger. “Before we go back to the donuts—some of them are vegan, by the way, so look for the placards—I also want to talk about an exciting opportunity that’s come up.” She stood straighter. “I’ve been approached to work on a . . . project. A documentary television series, actually, produced by and broadcast on Hulu. They’re hoping to shoot a story about parenting. Mothering. Children. Education, especially in changing times. I have to admit, I pitched them hard. I talked about how I’m a single parent, and I talked about Silver Swans, and I talked about all of you, hardworking people who only want the best for your kids. And . . . I just found out they went for it. Silver Swans is going to be a featured school.”

Carson let out a whoop. “I knew they’d choose you!”

Others started to murmur. Andrea spluttered up a sip of coffee, sending Lauren, who was standing next to her, jerking away from the spray. “Sorry, sorry!” Andrea cried, grabbing napkins. The air smelled slightly like crème liqueur. “Wrong pipe!”

“This won’t take any time away from my commitment to your children,” Piper said, her voice raising. “However, I wanted to give you a heads-up that there may be a few cameras around. Your children might be recorded, as this is partly a documentary about kids. Unless, of course, you don’t want that, and you can sign a waiver, and they’ll pixelate out your children’s faces in postproduction. Absolutely up to you—however, please consider the merits of participating. Your child, if you choose to be involved, will be interviewed carefully and sensitively. You may find out insights about them. You also might treasure the professionally shot footage once they get older. And, of course, if there are any budding actors, this might be a way to find representation!” She laughed mirthfully. “Kidding! Kind of!”

Hands shot up. “How many episodes?” This from a very blond, very tiny woman at the fireplace.

“I’m not sure,” Piper said. “Ten, to start. For the first season, anyway.”

“If we’d like to be interviewed, do we have to apply?” asked another mother.

“Check in with me, and I’ll connect you with Kelsey, the producer who’s handling all of that.”

“Is this like a reality show?” That was from a balding, bearded father at the front.

Piper looked mortified. “Oh no. Far from it. It’s a documentary.”

Ronnie now looked faint. Lane, who’d reappeared by her side, took her arm. “You okay?”

“I . . .” Ronnie ran her hand across the back of her neck, then nodded. “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever.”