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  “You know this isn’t about Karen. Don’t try to shift your personal responsibility onto her. All she does is take care of you. You should feel lucky she cares so much.”

  “Yeah, Dad, okay,” she sarcastically answered as we both clomped down the stairs. “Thanks for that. You sound like a broken record. You know that, right?”

  If there wasn’t already steam coming out of my nose, there had to be at that point. I’d tried yelling before, though. Just like everyone said, it wasn’t the best parenting tactic.

  I’d also given her space. Not that I hadn’t been doing that before.

  So what the fuck else was I supposed to do?

  Raven whipped the door to the pool open and then made a move to shut it in my face. I quickly grabbed it, though, stepping into the heated room right behind her.

  “What is it you need, Raven? You have everything already.”

  Dropping her towel on a chair, she kept her back to me and pulled on goggles.

  “You’re beautiful and smart. You can have and be anything you want in life, but not if you keep acting this way. The only person you’re hurting is—”

  She dove into the water, the splash cutting me off. Her form moved below the surface, effortlessly gliding all the way to the opposite end of the pool. On the other side of the glass walls, the yard sat dark. Beyond that, Seattle’s city lights twinkled.

  My whole life, I’d worked to give Raven everything she would ever need, but I hadn’t been blind about my gifts either. Growing up in a working-class family taught me the value of accountability, of learning how to take care of myself.

  So though Raven lived in a big house and didn’t want for anything physically speaking, I’d also consciously put her in public school rather than in private. And no thousand-dollar smartphone, or whatever shit it was she wanted next. Kids didn’t need that stuff.

  So where had I gone wrong?

  I didn’t know, but I needed answers right away. I’d already wasted enough time with this pointless dance. I still had two more calls to make before the end of the night and a briefing to go over for the next morning’s meeting.

  Just as Raven emerged from the water, I went to the wall and killed the lights. Darkness enveloped the pool room.

  “Hey!” she cried.

  Wet footsteps echoed in the space, coming closer to me.

  I turned the light on, finding Raven standing just a few feet away, hair dripping and eyes flashing. Without any warning, I gasped. Those bright green eyes, wild with emotion, the long, honey waves and sharp chin.

  With each day that passed, Raven looked more and more like her mother.

  Maybe that was part of what had made our relationship so hard in the last year. But who the fuck knew?

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded, attitude turned up to the max.

  I shook my head, more to get ahold of myself than anything else. Raven was not her mother. They were two completely different people. I needed to remember that.

  “I should be asking you that,” I answered. “What do you want that you don’t have? Why are you screwing up your life?”

  Her arms folded and then quickly unfolded, showing her discomfort. Avoiding my eyes, she snatched her towel from the chair and began to dry her hair vigorously.

  “This is your last chance, Raven. Either straighten up or face the consequences. No phone. No car.”

  The reaction didn’t come. She just kept drying her hair, acting as if phones and cars weren’t the lifeblood of any and every American teenager.

  I fought the urge to pull at my hair. She’d already gotten enough of a rise out of me. Completely dropping my poker face wasn’t an option.

  Licking my lips, I closed my eyes. There was one more thing I hadn’t tried, but it was time.

  “Do you want to talk to someone? I’ll set you up with a therapist.”

  Back turned, her shoulders tensed. “What, like a shrink?” she barked.

  My mouth became even drier. “Just someone to talk to.”

  “I don’t need meds. I’m not like her.”

  She couldn’t have hit closer to my weak spot if she’d tried.

  Swallowing hard, I looked for the right words and then realized I’d been doing that for the whole last year. The English language only contained so many options.

  “Just… Can you just try to do better? Tomorrow is a new week, all right? It’s a chance to get started off on a new foot.”

  Raven kept her back to me, her head hanging low.

  “Sure,” she finally said, taking her things and leaving the pool room.

  The “sure” had been the most listless it could be. There was no way of telling whether she had absorbed anything I’d said or not.

  Burying my face in my hands, I ran my fingers down my cheeks. “Fuck,” I groaned out.

  When enough time had passed for Raven to make it up to the second floor, I left the pool room and weaved my way back to my office. The downstairs was dark and silent, the perfect atmosphere for getting some work done.

  Closing the door to my office, I settled into the leather chair once more. But try as hard as I might, the words on the computer screen didn’t make any sense. The letters all ran together. All I could think about was Raven.

  And Danica.

  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was a chance they were more alike than I had originally thought. Raven was the spitting image of her mother, but it could have been the similarities went beyond just physical.

  Ten years. That’s how long it had been since I’d put my wife in the ground. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about her, but at least I didn’t have any regrets. We’d had a good marriage. I’d loved her as much as any man could love a woman. Though I’d always worked hard, Danica had stayed home with Raven, and we always set aside a couple weekends a month for family time.

  It was ironic, though. For years, I worried myself sick over Danica’s mental illnesses. Anxiety. Depression. She took medication, went to therapy, meditated—did everything that was recommended.

  But that hadn’t stopped the dark bouts from popping up. Several times, I feared she might take her life. In the end, though, it had been a car crash that had done it, sudden and quick, while I was in New York for a meeting and Raven was working on a leaf collage at elementary school.

  Those first few years after the accident had been the worst. But, eventually, ten years crept by. Now Raven was almost an adult, preparing to take on the world all on her own. The hardest times were behind us.

  Or so I’d thought.

  Mental illness ran in families. So why hadn’t I thought to have Raven evaluated before?

  I didn’t want to face reality. That was it. Didn’t want to admit that maybe she struggled as much as Danica had.

  I shut my eyes and rubbed the lids, locking out the rest of the world. This office was supposed to be a place of focus and productivity. I’d set it up so I could be at home more often. I guess, in a way, it had been successful. Now I really saw how much Raven sought to avoid me.

  But I didn’t have time for this kind of bullshit. If Raven needed to see a specialist, then that was the way it was.

  One more chance, I promised myself. I’ll give her one more chance.

  Another note or call from school and she was headed to see a professional. This wasn’t something I could deal with on my own. I was busy. An entire company counted on me. Distractions, like always, could not be afforded.

  Nose to the grindstone, eyes on the prize. Don’t get distracted, don’t let others sway you. That was my way of life, the one I’d taught to my daughter. I didn’t need anyone to tell me it was the right way to live.

  For me, there was no other option. There never would be.

  3

  Lanie

  South Seattle High School was bigger than it was supposed to be.

  At least that’s what I thought as I stood outside looking at it on my first day. Had it been so gargantuan when I had gone in for my in
terview?

  I didn’t think so. Although, maybe the fact that I didn’t feel intimidated at all that other morning led to me being confident and getting the job.

  This day, though, I was anything but sure. I felt like it was my own first day of high school as I navigated the swarm of students in the main hallway, none of who gave me so much as a second look. Right then, I was just another adult to them, someone whose name they thought they wouldn’t remember in five years.

  I hoped to change that. South Seattle had over a thousand students, which meant there had to be hundreds of kids there who needed help in some way or another. Luckily, that’s what I was there for. Hopefully, by the time these teenagers left high school, they’d be at least a little more adjusted, thanks to me.

  Really, I didn’t even care whether they ever remembered my name or not. I just wanted to have as much of a positive effect on them as I possibly could.

  At the main office, I rapped on the open door. A middle-aged woman behind a desk glanced up, her half-hooded eyes looking bored with me already. A thread of anxiety wound its way through my heart, and I once again felt like the new kid—unsure and afraid no one would like me.

  “Hi. I’m Lanie Jacobs. I’m the new counselor.” Despite my feelings, I smiled like it was the best day of my life.

  She opened her mouth, but a male voice filled the room instead.

  “Good morning, Miss Jacobs. How are you doing?”

  It was Principal Stafford, sidling through a doorway on the other side of the office. He smiled at me, nodding as if in approval. “It’s so good to have you here.”

  “I’m excited to be here.” I clasped my hands together and nervously squeezed—then quickly dropped them at my sides. The only thing worse than being anxious was everyone knowing you were.

  Principal Stafford cleared his throat. “This is, uh, Joyce.” He motioned at the woman behind the desk and, as a second employee came in, her as well. “And Robin.”

  Robin was younger than Joyce and seemed to be more pleasant since she at least gave me a wave and a smile.

  Joyce and Robin. Joyce and Robin. I repeated the names in my head, sure I would only be able to remember half the names I’d learn that day but eager to try regardless.

  “I’ll take you to your office.” He swung his arm in excitement, and I followed him back into the hall.

  “Principal Stafford,” a boy sang out as we passed him by the bathrooms. He held his hand out for a fist bump, and the principal complied. The guy in charge of the school seemed kind of young for a principal, maybe a little more than ten years older than me, but he was very nice. If a softie like him could make it at South Seattle High School, that left a lot of hope for me.

  “Here we are.”

  He stopped at the very end of the hallway, past where the wings branched off. The office was small, but it was at the corner so had two windows. A filing cabinet, a desk with a computer that was at least ten years old, and three chairs were all it contained. Not one plant or poster.

  “Feel free to decorate it as you see fit. With, uh, within reason, of course.”

  “Of course,” I agreed.

  The bell rang as we stood there, signaling the start of the first period.

  “Student records are in the cabinet.” He pointed. “Once you use your ID to link to the school board’s site, you’ll be able to see all the kids’ current schedules. We don’t usually print that out unless it’s needed, it changes so much. Ah, let’s see. What else? School policies and tax forms are in that folder on the desk. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Having been nodding the entire time he talked, I forced myself to stop. “I will. Thanks again.”

  “You’ll like it here. Yes. I’m sure you will.”

  “Principal Stafford, if you—”

  “You can call me Tim if you like. All the teachers use first names here.”

  “Right. Tim. Thank you. I was just wondering, why did the last counselor leave?”

  I hadn’t thought to bring it up in the interview, but the school replacing staff a month into the semester was odd.

  “Oh, she was, well, she had a lot going on. Stress and all. Wanted to make a career change. But don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  Principal Stafford smiled. Standing side-by-side, I noticed he was only a few inches taller than me, which is saying something considering my lack of height had always been a source of irritation for me. I wondered how he kept the kids in line with such a small stature. Likely he connected with them on a friendly level, if what I saw in the hallway was evidence.

  With another nod, he went, leaving me alone in my new office. I hovered in the doorway, taking everything in. The last counselor had quit because of stress. In no universe did that sound like a good thing.

  Actually, it was pretty freaking ominous.

  Had it been the kids that got to her? My heart thudded faster, and I bit the inside of my bottom lip. Oh god. What was I getting myself into here? Maybe I should have stayed in kindergarten after all.

  Was it too late to go back there? They’d already replaced me, yes, but there were other schools.

  “Calm down,” I whispered out loud. “You’re freaking out.”

  Slow breath after slow breath, I took a seat at my new station. The chair wasn’t the best, but it had padding. And the desk, one of those long ones that a couple of people usually work at, came to just the right level. It was an environment that could definitely be worked with.

  Flipping through the files on my desk, I made a mental note of what I needed to take care of that day and of what could wait. In the desk’s top drawer were a few files, all of them pretty sparse. Whoever had held the position before me must not have been there for very long. Either that or they didn’t like compiling notes.

  Opening the folder marked “Urgent,” I found a picture of a beautiful blond girl with sharp, green eyes. It was a school portrait, and even though the teenager was posed in the stereotypical way, head cocked, shoulder to the front, defiance lived in her eyes.

  A firecracker, for sure.

  Trailing my finger down the page, I found her stats. Raven Marx. Seventeen. A senior at South Seattle. Had some disruptions the previous year, including skipping classes and talking back to teachers. The last few weeks, though, things had gone further south. She’d taken to cussing in class and threatening other students with harm.

  Moving past Raven’s file, I read the few other ones in the folder. Just judging from the family information on the other pages, I got a sense of why the kids were likely having troubles. One boy’s father was in prison, and another’s parents were going through divorce.

  There was more information on all the kids, but I left the detailed reading for another time and moseyed my way down the hall. There were coworkers to meet.

  Too soon, the teacher’s lounge was in front of me. With sweaty palms, I opened the door and went in. Two women not much older than me stood talking in the little kitchen area, and a man with salt-and-pepper hair hunched over a big folder in a chair by the window.

  The man didn’t so much as look up, but the women glanced my way, and I realized one of them was Robin from the office.

  “She’s just hopeless,” the other woman was saying. “Raven’s never going to change because she doesn’t have to.”

  My ears practically twitched. A tidbit on a student! With my social anxiety dissipating, I made my way over to them.

  “Robin, right?” I offered my hand to the other woman. “I’m Lanie Jacobs, the new counselor.”

  “Destiny Rodriquez.” She shook my hand and smiled at me. “I teach music.”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear. Were you talking about Raven Marx?”

  “Ugh.” Robin made a face. “The one and only.”

  “I just glanced at her file. I saw she’s been having some trouble recently.”

  Destiny sighed. “Trouble would be a light way of putting it.” She took a swig of whatever was in her
mug. “I need to get ready for second period. Nice meeting you, Lanie.”

  I gave her a little wave and turned back to Robin. “Raven is sent to the office a lot?”

  “Yep,” she tartly replied, turning around to fill her ceramic mug with coffee from the nearby pot. “She’s pretty close to getting expelled, most likely.”

  “Hm.” I frowned. “Do you have any idea why she’s acting out? I didn’t see anything in her file about—”

  Robin swallowed a hot sip and shook her head. “You’re not going to find anything special in there. The girl is a spoiled brat. Plain and simple.”

  My stomach twisted at the unfair term. Calling a person a brat was an easy way of glossing over an issue. No one acts out for no reason. Even if a kid is used to always getting what they want, they still deserve help. Spoiling creates bigger issues that affect a person for the rest of their lives.

  “Thank you.” I smiled politely, feeling it was time to retreat. “I should get back to work. See you around.”

  Halfway back to my office, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Stealing a look around to make sure the hall was empty, I pulled the phone out and accepted Erica’s call.

  “Hey,” I whispered.

  “How is the first day?” Erica squealed.

  Reaching my door, I slipped into the safety of the office where I could talk in peace. Taking a personal call at school would probably not bode well for my success there.

  “Good.” I slipped into my seat. “Already have a few kids on my radar.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  I chuckled. “We’ll see. I was just in the teacher lounge, and one of the women in the office told me about this girl, Raven Marx. Called her a brat. God, I hate that word.”

  “Raven Marx?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “That name sounds familiar.”

  “From where?” I laughed again as I powered up the computer. Time to see if the last counselor left any useful tidbits of information on the desktop. “Since when do you hang out with high school kids?”

  “No,” she said seriously.“I have heard it from somewhere. Marx. Where’ve I heard that name?” In Erica’s background, people chattered and phones rang. Her office was always buzzing with activity. I’d visited it a few times, and my head had nearly exploded from the energy. Kindergarten was one thing, but the advertising branch of an accounting firm was another. As the baller head of the department, though, Erica took the craziness all in stride.