Had I underestimated Maggie Lewis? Could it be more than coincidence that she’d showed up minutes after that Facebook comment appeared?

“What exactly is your story about, Maggie?” I asked, suspicious, shifting the donuts to my other hand.

She adjusted her bag, a heavy-looking computer tote. White papers threatened to spill over the top. “I’ll fill you in on all of it, don’t worry. How about tomorrow evening after the boys’ swim meet? I’ll buy you whatever you want at Starbucks.”

The bitch. Strong-arming me. I knew the tactic. I’d done it myself.

“Maybe...” I trilled. Never. “Though me and the fam might be going out to dinner.”

Maggie nodded, as if she knew I was lying. “I’ll text you tomorrow.” Just as I was getting ready to pull my phone out again, she turned. “Oh one more thing, Kendra. Do you stay in touch with Jacqueline Hendricks?”

The endless rows of lockers, gray and solemn, had never seemed so claustrophobic. “Excuse me?”

Maggie grinned. “Just a little something I’m following up on. But we can talk tomorrow.” She gave a finger-wave, pivoted on her heel, and sauntered off.

The cafeteria was empty except for the scholarship committee meeting. As I strolled in, one fluorescent light flickered like a twitching eye above a sign that said EAT HEALTHY, PLAY HARD.

My committee volunteers—Debbie Pincheon, Zoe Taylor, Kelly Conville, and Beth Posniak—were sitting at a long table, flipping through essays written by the juniors and seniors who’d applied, their giant paper coffee cups stained with various shades of lipstick. The committee was always a prestigious role—Alice would be on it when Jonah was old enough to attend Woodard. I picked the team with an eye toward future PT officers.

“I brought you all some sugar for the midafternoon crash.” I placed the box of donuts before them. Food was always a good way to keep people on your side.

“Thanks,” Zoe said, though I knew she was on the latest fad diet and wouldn’t touch the sweets.

“There are so so so so so so many good applications this year,” Kelly said. “I just don’t know how we’re going to choose a winner.”

“Well, choose we must.” I picked up a stack of applications. “Are these the rejects?”

“That’s the yes pile,” Kelly said, taking a sip of her coffee. Kelly was new blood. I’d recruited her for Parent Team this year, and so far she seemed to be working out.

“So, I hear Full Moon is coming up?” Beth asked. “I saw your Facebook post.”

Had she also seen the Ivy Woods comment? I didn’t think so. Her phone wasn’t out, and I’d deleted it as soon as Maggie had walked away.

“I hope you’ll be there,” I said. “We’ll be collecting for the scholarship, and it would be nice to have the committee represented.”