She glanced at me and gave me a quick wink before her face abruptly changed. A look of utter confusion gave way to recognition. She drew her mouth into a tight line, let her gaze wander to the floor. “Can you hold on a minute?” she asked. She squeezed Mo’s shoulder and stepped around the counter. “I need to run upstairs real quick.” She hurried out.

A few minutes later, the bell above the door clanged.

“Hey, Jake!” I said.

“What’s good, Briseis?” Jake said with a big smile.

Mo used to babysit Jake on weekends when his dad was out of town on business, and now, he came into the shop to help out two or three times a week. He refused to take any money, so we paid him in bagels, free Wi-Fi, and Mo’s world-famous Sunday dinners. He was happy with that.

“How’s school?” he asked, giving me a big hug.

“Out for the summer.”

“I should have taken off for the summer,” he said. “I’m doing three online classes.”

“That’s a lot of work,” I said.

“Who you tellin’?” Jake asked. “I’m taking a calculus refresher for no credit because I have to take it in the fall and I suck at college-level math. It doesn’t have anything to do with my plan to be a beauty guru.”

“What’s that?” Mo asked.

“I don’t know, but I know they make money,” said Jake. “How hard can it be? Paint your face, eyebrows. Powder. Done.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that—but hey, follow your dreams,” I said.

“See,” said Jake. “That’s why I come over here. Y’all don’t judge me.”

Mo’s phone rang in her pocket. When she answered, she had the same look of concern that Mom had.

“Briseis, can you come with me?” She turned to Jake. “Can you watch the shop for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, looking back and forth between us. “Everything okay?”

Mo nodded, motioning for me to follow her upstairs. She took the steps two at a time.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I scrambled after her.

She continued up the stairs without answering me.

When we walked into the living room, my mom was sitting on the couch with her hands tented under her chin.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down next to her. She took my hands in hers and squeezed them. Another wave of anxiety washed over me. “Mom, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Is it the rent? Do we have to move sooner?”

She shook her head.

“Did—did somebody die?”

“No, baby, it’s nothing like that.” She took a deep breath. “I got a call from an attorney who represents the estate of your birth mother’s sister.”