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“Ish?” Rosa calls, and we all laugh.

“Did you make funny faces for everyone, Mama? At the loud, boring place.”

I giggle. “I always make funny faces for them. Look.” Rosa and Zoe laugh together as I cycle through my over exaggerated Here to Help expressions, the big eyes, the fake smile and batting lashes. They both find it hilarious, probably because I’m not like this at home. I’m happy, sure, but not manic as they like us in the VIP area.

Rosa offers me some breakfast, and I accept happily. She’s a kind woman. I’ll always remember how different from Mateo, her son, she looked when I first met her. Or maybe it was their energy. She was open. Soft. He was all hard edges and ugly intent. I was relieved when he went to prison, even if it was for stabbing someone, leaving us tangled in debt.

She has her dark, silver-threaded hair in a braid over one shoulder. Zoe has recently started copying her, and they look so alike. Rosa is nothing like Mateo, and yet Zoe is all Rosa. Same blood, different energy.

“Is your head in the clouds, Mama?”

“Floating awaaaaaay,” I sing in that tone she likes.

She giggles beautifully, looking at me with all the love in the world. It’s worth it. Every moment they talk down to me. And this new risk. It’s for Zoe and Pico lapping at her face, and Rosa walking in with a tray of steaming pancakes… and, after that, it’s for the business management textbooks tucked away in my drawers, it’s for opening my own club one day.

Rosa sits and wraps her arm around me. “Was it awful last night?”

“No,” I tell her. “It was fine. Just another night.”

Except that’s a big lie. Even the Cordero incident alone would’ve made it momentous. I stood up to that silver-toothed psycho. Lied to him just for the hell of it. But now this spying thing…

I need to chill with that, I’ve realized. I got carried away last night. All that fake smiling, swallowing so much… I can’t mess this up. Pico hiccups; all three of us exchange glances, and even Zoe looks almost up in her concern. A hiccup from Pico might mean he vomits, which means he’ll need to go back to the vet. We’re still paying off the last bill.

From now on, I need to focus on the mission. Information for cash.

We play Monopoly, then it’s time for a playdate Zoe has. I borrow Rosa’s car and sit with the other mom, Sasha, talking tiredly. She works long hours behind a desk or sometimes cleaning rooms at The Delmaris Hotel. So she’s often zombified too. I like her. She’s the kind of friend you can just sit with and not feel pressured. We met three years ago when I was working at an event for the hotel where she works.

I check my phone when it vibrates in my pocket. Then, when it’s still in my hand, I feel it vibrate in my pocket again. I think I’m going crazy until I remember… duh. I grab the other phone.

Sasha glances at me. “If you were married, I’d ask if you’re having an affair.”

“Just, uh, in between phones.”

Sasha rolls her eyes playfully. “So mysterious.”

Mr. Volkov has texted me.

X: I’ve added a bouncer to the schedule for peak hours and we’ve installed stickers.

Iris: Do you expect a cookie?

I type, then quickly delete. Why am I on such a hair trigger about all this? I look over at Zoe and Sasha’s daughter, Michaela, as they play in the ball pit. Happy and enthusiastic despite their parents’ stress, safe.

Instead, I type.

Iris: That seems reasonable and fair.

It seems like the most neutral thing I can say.

X: I wasn’t expecting a song, Iris, but damn. I thought you’d at least say thank you.

I bite my lip.

“Oh, Mama,” Sasha says, laughing. “What’s got you all flustered?”

“It’s a work email,” I mutter.

“Say no more.”