Duly chastened, Tonya sidestepped out of her way before turning toward the stairs. Imani did not want anyone messing with her family’s stuff, especially the new boarder. The next time she had to do laundry, Tonya resigned herself to scrounging together enough quarters for the laundromat.

“So, Tonya.”

The call stopped her retreat. Imani held the stain spray bottle, perhaps ready to repeat the work that Tonya had already done. The prior plastic smile stretched her mouth. “It was nice to hear that you are at St. Catherine’s. I really love the school.”

“Us too.”

“What teacher does Layla have?”

Was she testing her or simply making polite conversation? Imani’s expression was a cinched veil, obscuring whatever she was really thinking.

“Ms. Brown,” Tonya said.

“She’s good. I know her.” The smile pressed Imani’s large brown eyes into almond slivers. She was a pretty woman, Tonya found herself thinking. Pretty with a PhD, if Tonya remembered correctly. And a handsome celebrity chef husband. And a giant carriage house in Brooklyn.

“I actually have to go to the school later today,” Imani continued. “I’m on a bunch of committees. When I was trying to get my kids in, I thought volunteering was the best way to get an edge, you know? But once you’re in, you can’t get out. It’s like the Mafia.”

Imani winced as she said the last word, like she’d made an off-color comment.

“I should do more of that,” Tonya said. “It’s just that—”

“You’re a single working mom. I have some flexibility. Some days, like today, I only have a handful of patients. Got to do something with my time. I don’t have many hobbies.”

Tonya wasn’t sure if the comment was an invitation to ask Imani about her extracurriculars or share her own outside interests. She couldn’t get a read on the woman. Imani was like a gas fire. Her presence gave off a heat but didn’t exactly crackle with warmth.

“So, um, does Layla see her dad much?”

The question felt like Imani had grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled. “Not at all, actually.” Tonya heard the edge in her tone, though she couldn’t control it. She hated Layla’s father too much. “He was never really in Layla’s life. She doesn’t know him. We don’t discuss him.”

Tonya caught the warning in her tone as she said the last part. She’d intended it, though perhaps not as blatantly as it had come out.

Imani’s eyes went wide. “Oh. I was only wondering if he might be coming here to pick her up or, I don’t know, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”