Page 35 of Convenient Mafia Vows

“How soon can she be enrolled?” I wait for Ms. Montgomery to slide her attention my way.

“Assuming that she passes the entry requirements, it will take four to six weeks.”

“The entry requirements?”

“Abigail will need to complete the entry exam. Then, provided her results are suitable, she will be invited to attend an interview with her parents. I must advise you that we wouldn’t normally consider students with unfavorable reports from previous educational institutions.”

“Abigail’s report won’t be unfavorable,” Victoria blurts out. “They’ll tell you how bright she is.”

“I don’t doubt that she is bright,” Ms. Montgomery says coolly.

“I’ll pay the admission fee now,” I join in. “The Murrays will be happy to sponsor the Academy for whatever it needs.”

The head teacher’s eyes narrow briefly, a faint smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “This isn’t about money, Mr. Murray. It’s about Abigail’s suitability to attend the Academy. I must determine whether I feel that she will benefit from being educated here.”

“Surely Abigail will thrive with the appropriate nurturing.” Victoria has stopped spinning the ring around her finger, and I can hear the fight back in her voice.

Good.

The woman sitting behind the desk has no God-given right to determine whether a child is or isn’t good enough to be educated here. It’s like playing the lottery with kids’ futures, and I have no intention of leaving Abigail’s education to chance.

“I agree that she will thrive in the right environment,” Ms. Montgomery continues, “but whether the Academy is that environment remains to be seen.”

I stand abruptly and offer the head teacher my hand. “Thank you for your time. We’ll take Abigail elsewhere.”

“Caleb?” Victoria’s eyes are wide with panic as she rises. “What are you?—”

“We’ve heard enough. As you pointed out, Abigail will thrive in the right environment, and this isn’t it.”

“But we… How do you?—”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Murray.” The head teacher talks over Victoria, confirming that I’ve made the right decision. “Abigail may still sit the exam if you would like.”

“It won’t be necessary.”

“Caleb please…” Victoria’s eyes are pleading with me not to ruin this opportunity for Abigail, but I need her to understand that there are other schools, other ways of getting her niece the education that she needs.

Ms. Montgomery is on her feet behind her desk. “Perhaps you both need some time to discuss this in private.” The dig isn’t lost on me. She’s insinuating that we should’ve discussed our options prior to this appointment.

“Not at all.” I smile. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

“Where are we going?” Abigail jumps to her feet and slides her hand in mine.

My chest swells with the knowledge that I can help this kid, I can give her the chance that her loser father will never be able to provide. I crouch in front of her so that our eyes are level. “Staten Island.”

One call to Lauren is all it takes to secure the public open hours at the software lab on Staten Island for our own personal use. I want to see what Abigail can do. I don’t want to hear it from Victoria, I need to see it for myself before I can consider the way forward. My knowledge of kids is limited, but this isn’t about knowledge. This is about doing what’s right for an innocent kid whose birthright has handed her an empty plate while mine is overflowing.

Victoria is quiet in the car, forehead pressed against the passenger window. I’m no expert on women either, but I know she’s trying to figure out how to convince Catherine Montgomery to let Abigail take the entrance exam. She thinks I’ve let them down. She thinks I’ve ruined Abigail’s life for some kind of power trip, and this makes me angry.

I’ve told her that I take care of what’s mine, so the sooner she learns to accept that, the easier it will be for us to get along.

And the kid is even brighter than anyone has given her credit for. The technician, a young woman with black hair in a tight ponytail and wearing black-rimmed glasses shows Abigail how to program a basic piece of software, and Abigail not only gets it the first time, but asks the right questions to move onto the next stage.

The technician is suitably impressed. She pushes Abigail, encourages her with technical words that wash over Victoria’s head and leave her open-mouthed, the technician’s excitement demonstrated by the squeal in her voice and the way she beckons her colleagues over to watch.

I call Lauren and ask her to get Brailand Voth on the phone; if he has moved on to another school in the city, he’ll accept Abigail, no questions asked.

I’m not expecting Lauren to tell me that he’s uncontactable.

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