“Yes. Talk soon, okay?”
She blew a kiss goodbye and hopped out into damp, diesel-scented air. Passing through the gates of Harvard Yard was like entering a secret garden. The rain had stopped. The paths were carpeted with wet leaves that gave off a smoky smell. Madison inhaled the fragrance, breathing deep, consciously putting space between herself and her family troubles. All she wanted was to be just another student heading to class with her Starbucks and her backpack. No secrets, nothing to be ashamed of. No worries but studying and law review. The same as anybody else.
But she wasn’t.
Securities Reg had already started. The prof glanced up as Madison slunk in the door at the top of the classroom. Eyes on her feet, she hurried down the tiered rows to her assigned seat. The room was classic Harvard Law—beamed ceilings, ornate light fixtures, the smell of dust and history. She whispered apologies to the students on either side as she set up her laptop. Chloe, Ty’s girlfriend, sat to her right, a fluke of the seating chart. Not enemies by any means, they weren’t friends, either. Chloe graciously angled her computer so Madison could read her notes. The topic was insider trading, something Madison would normally find fascinating. Apparently, her famous powers of concentration could be shaken after all, though it took something as awful as seeing her little brother locked up in prison. She caught only snippets of the lecture, typing random phrases into her notes without comprehending their meaning, as her mind wandered, visions of Danny dancing before her eyes.
Danny in the playground at ten years old, bleeding from a cut lip after a fight. The other kid, bleeding worse. Danny outside the principal’s office, suspended again. Madison getting called out of class to take him home when they couldn’t reach Mom. I know your father passed, the principal said, talking to her like she was Danny’s mother, though she was only thirteen. But this can’t continue. I have other students to think of. Getting home, finding Mom dead asleep on the couch, dirty dishes piled in the sink, a stack of bills on the table. Shaking her mother awake. You didn’t go to work? She was just so tired, she said, pulling a blanket over her head.
That was the night Madison gave in and called Aunt Nilda. Not only because Danny kept acting out. They’d had nothing but peanut-butter sandwiches to eat for a week, and the utility bill said “Final Notice.” Nilda was Mom’s younger sister. No kids of her own, a high-paying job as a nurse in a big hospital, a two-bedroom condo in Brooklyn that she owned. She adored her niece and nephew, which was why Madison hesitated to call. Nilda would step in and take charge. Madison was afraid things would change, when they’d changed enough already.
She was right.
Mom was severely depressed, Nilda said. She needed help. Medical care. A break. The kids would live with Nilda in Brooklyn while Mom got better. For how long? Madison asked. Well, they’d have to wait and see.
She remembered sitting with Danny on the Greyhound bus, distraught at leaving her home, her friends, her mother. Taking it out on him. This is all your fault. He looked so devastated that she gave him the chocolate bar she’d bought with her last money. That first night, he trashed their room in Aunt Nilda’s condo, and Uncle Hector came in with the belt. It was a bad start. Hector was Nilda’s fiancé, a beat cop who believed that discipline kept kids off the street. That approach didn’t work on Danny. He needed love.
Madison thrived at Nilda’s from the start. She liked sitting down to dinner every night, saying grace and please and thank you. But Danny just squirmed and refused to make eye contact. Nilda took them to museums, concerts. Danny was so bored that he fought going, and eventually Nilda left him alone. Her apartment was tastefully decorated, with rugs, plants, books on the shelves. Madison loved it. Danny couldn’t stand the level of neatness required. Granted, she was a thirteen-year-old girl, and he was a ten-year-old boy. But it was also just a bad fit. She loved structure. He hated rules. He fell in with the troublemakers at school and was in the principal’s office constantly, just like back home. Nilda wanted to put them in Catholic school to get Danny away from the bad influences, but Hector objected to the expense. It’s my money. You don’t decide, she said, which started an argument that never seemed to end.
The more Hector and Nilda fought over Danny, the more Madison threw herself into school. She’d been placed in the gifted class. She became the extra-credit queen, volunteering for every club, making friends with the smart kids. They weren’t just a bunch of wallflowers, either, but artsy, verbal, political, unusually mature for eighth graders. New York did that—gave you an edge, made you grow up fast. Hanging out with them, Madison got interested in her Puerto Rican heritage for the first time. She perfected her Spanish slang, read the news, read history. Six months in, she was happy in New York, when Danny got caught smoking weed in the park. He was only eleven but tall for his age and hanging out with older kids. Hector went in to talk to him, and somehow, it turned into a blowout. Hector gave Danny a black eye, which was not okay. Nilda kicked Hector out, but it was too late to salvage the situation. Mom insisted they come back to Boston. That was too soon. She wasn’t back on her feet, which meant Danny couldn’t get on his.