“It’s really messed up that Ms. Lewis did that.”

“Finley, I want you to listen to me.” That was her deadly serious tone, so I listened. “It’s not that simple. There’s just one of you and three people looking after you as you grow up. Those numbers are reversed for Nicole. She’s had to make some hard choices that your dad and I have never had to do, like about basic childcare, and no one should judge her for that. No one. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled contritely.

And I felt a ripple of shame for having done exactly that. Judged Ms. Lewis without thinking about things from her perspective. Ayisha was right about me having it easy. Not lately, but overall in life. As pathetic as it sounded, that had never occurred to me before.

Still, I’d seen the pain in Ayisha’s eyes as she talked about having to withdraw and the unjustness stuck with me.

“But—and just listen,” I hurried when I saw her about to interject. “The numbers aren’t reversed anymore. Billie and Linda are going to Oakengates.”

Mom’s eyes lit up. “They got in?” I nodded. “Oh, good. They’re so talented.”

“Maybe don’t mention that in front of Ayisha.”

Mom nodded.

I stood up and crossed to the fireplace. “But the girls getting in there means the whole reason Ayisha couldn’t go to Barrington is gone now.”

“True . . .”

“Which means she could go.”

“Possibly. If there’s a spot for her.”

I absentmindedly tapped the red glass ornament dangling from the pine bough stretched across the mantel. It swayed precariously. “I think I should give her my spot. It’s only fair since it was hers to begin with.”

Mom drew a deep breath. I knew she was mentally counting to calm herself. She was the one who taught me that trick. After several moments passed, she stood and joined me at the fireplace.

“First of all,” she said evenly, “that’s foolish. Second of all, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Why? My friend Arthur got in there midway through a school year, so if a spot opens up . . .” I pointed to myself.

“What about you? What would you do? Come back here, to Christmas?”

“Would that be so bad?”

She opened her mouth to respond then stopped herself. And seemed to reconsider. After several moments she admitted, “No.” And slowly exhaled, as some of the tension she was carrying seemed to fade. “No, it wouldn’t.” She dropped her gaze and seemed bemused. “Which I’m starting to figure out myself.”