“Well, I’m here now. That should have given you plenty of time to finish part of it.”

“Can I eat dinner first? I’m hungry.” Juleen looked around. “Where is dinner?”

“I’ll get it for you in a minute. Start your homework.”

I said, “God forbid that I interfere with her studies, but can this wait?”

Chris gave me a sour look. “Don’t coddle her. I’ll be back in a half hour.” He started to leave, then turned around. “You can eat soft food now, Terry. What do you want?”

“I’d love some oatmeal.”

“No problem.” He pointed to Juleen. “Start your homework.”

After he left, Juleen said, “Was he strict like that with Gabe?”

“Honestly, he didn’t pay much attention to Gabe.”

“Probably because he was so perfect.”

“Gabe was perfect and so are you.” I sat down on the brown suede sofa and patted the empty cushion next to mine. She sat and hugged a pillow.

“How are you?”

My eyes started to water. “All right.”

“You look sooooo much better.”

“Do I?”

“Believe me, you do.” She slid over until she was under the crook of my arm. “Your eyes are still black and blue, but your face is back to normal.”

“I did look pretty scary.”

“Mommy, I don’t care what you look like, just that you’re here.”

“Me too, priya.” I paused. “Do you miss home?”

A big smile. “Not so much now that you’re here.”

“I missed you, too, priya. I need to catch up with you. What are you studying?”

“Algebra, English, no science. But four languages. It’s hard. I get everything confused.”

“What languages?”

“Spanish and French. But also Russian and Chinese. Why am I learning Russian and Chinese?”

My immediate thought was that he was grooming her for his foreign clientele. But maybe that was harsh. I always thought the worst of him. “I have no idea.”

“Oh, and Chris has a violin teacher for me. Did you know he also plays violin?”

“I did know.”

“He’s so good at it. Way better than me.”

“He’s very talented.” I took a deep breath. “Is he nice to you?”

“No, he’s mean. He’s very strict. And he glares a lot.”

Those were all good signs. “Yeah, Chris does glare. It’s just the way he is.” I was silent for a beat. “He … he doesn’t touch you, does he?”

“Touch me?” She looked confused, then made a face. “Ew, no! He stands on the other side of the room when he talks to me. Even when he’s correcting my violin playing, he never touches my hands like my old teacher. He just picks up the violin and shows me.”

“Okay.”

“Why do you ask? Is he a pervert?”