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“You guys, you don’t even want to know what Morgan is doing with Dr. Broker,” said Sofia, in between hiccups. “I’m pretty sure she tried to kill him. Ay, that man did not just ingest a bit of Ambien.” Belle’s eyes widened. She then took deep breaths to calm herself down, something sinister coming together in her mind.

“Fuck,” Belle said, her face crumpling with the dawning realization that Dr. Broker hadn’t pursued her for her good looks or charm. “What if… what if she tells… Jeff,” she breathed. “He can’t find out. I will kill her. She cut my hair. She cut my hair! And what she did to Hildy… I will fucking murder her skinny ass.”

Sofia glanced at Frost, in disbelief that those words had come out of Belle Redness’s mouth.

“I have a plan,” said Sofia.

“We’re going to help,” said Frost. “What can we do?” Belle nodded, her bob swinging. They’d all gone a little psycho by then.

Chapter 17The Atherton Altruist Ceremony!

Here they all were, at Sofia’s Altruist Ceremony, sitting in the plush pews of Atherton’s auditorium, a circle of them surrounding the stage. Four chairs were set up in staggered formation, giving everyone a good view of those up top: Sofia, Sofia’s adorable children, Lucia and Carlos, and the school secretary, Mary Margaret. The large projector screen used for rainy-day movies was down, likely because of the drizzle earlier that day. The place was full—about a hundred moms gathered to witness the spectacle, to see what Sofia had planned and why she’d called this ceremony in the first place. Atherton had welcomed her in, chewed her up, and spit her out, and they were all excitedly awaiting the resolution of this particular story.

Would Sofia announce she was leaving the school? Double down and stay? Reveal why she’d tried to murder the majority of the PA? (That was an exaggeration: the only one who was even close to dying was Dr. Broker, and the hospital wasn’t releasing info about his condition or what had caused it; everyone else had been in and out of the ER in no time.)

The air in the auditorium was stuffy and hot; the landmark masonry building had been erected in 1860, and as much money as the school poured into its renovations, it still suffered from under–air conditioning. The attendees were catching up on weekend plans, exchanging notes on summer camps, chatting about the TV shows they were watching, normal mom stuff in a this very abnormal mom circumstance.

There was an audible buzz as Sofia’s three former best friends, Belle Redness, Frost Trevor, and Morgan Chary, entered the room, all dressed in black, even Belle, who’d traded her usual girly getups for a funereal pantsuit. They looked like a trio of sneaky stagehands, slinking in together right as the play was supposed to start. They ducked down, trying to go unnoticed, but the combination of their late entrance plus their out-of-character costumes had the opposite effect. Heads swiveled to stare, and they sank into three seats in the back, right at the same time that Mary Margaret stepped up to the podium and tapped the microphone to start.

“Hello, Atherton! I’m here in place of our dear Dr. Broker, who’s still on the mend. But I know he’d want this to happen in his absence. Our administration is fully focused on Atherton’s four pillars: Integrity, Peace, Equality, and Simplicity, and this award hits each one of them. Sitting up here with me today is Sofia Perez and her children: Lucia, who’s in second grade, and Carlos, who’s in fourth. We are here to honor Sofia for what she did on the first day of school. Better late than never, right?” Mary paused for laughter, but there was none.

“On September sixth, Sofia, new to Atherton, intervened on behalf of another mother, putting herself in danger to save someone else. Belle Redness was about to be viciously attacked by a personexperiencing homelessness, and Sofia leaped to her defense, driving away the aggressor by hitting him with her purse. Women are mighty! And here at Atherton we band together to protect one another, friends till the end.” There was an uncomfortable amount of throat clearing and a small amount of applause.

“So, let me get to the good part,” said Mary, sensing she was losing the audience. “Please, Sofia, will you come here?” Sofia, still sitting, slowly took off the cream blazer she’d been wearing, and then she stood, revealing for the first time what she had on underneath—a teal and orange striped bandage dress, tight enough to be painted on, showing off Sofia’s curves, the roundness of her behind, her smooth, tan skin. It was the Sofia of old, the Sofia of September, before she’d morphed into an Atherton clone. Sofia walked over to Mary, taking her place next to her.

“Sofia Perez, will you please accept the Atherton Altruist award for your selfless and brave actions helping another Atherton community member in need?” Sofia nodded and smiled. Then Mary handed Sofia a small jewelry box, which everyone knew contained a gold necklace with an “A” pendant that the PA bought in bulk from Jennifer Meyer, a friend of Ava Leo’s.

“Sofia, if you’d like to give a little speech, now’s your moment!” said Mary. All the moms held their collective breath. Sofia stepped over to the microphone.

“Hola, ladies, and Dreyfuss,” she said. Dreyfuss beamed. “And thank you, Mary, for this lovely honor. Our little family feels so lucky to have been welcomed into the Atherton community. My children have made so many new friends, and we’ve loved getting to know you.”

At that moment, the children’s nanny, standing near the stage,beckoned the kids to come down to her. The three of them then filed out the side door of the auditorium as Sofia watched, silent, making everyone shift in their seats.

“They’re tired, you know?” she said after they’d left. “And they don’t need to see this.”

The tension in the room had built to the point of near explosion. Moms were gripping their seats, grinding their expensive dental work.

“Get on with it, Sofia!” yelled Gabby Mahler, to some laughter.

“Okay, Gabby, okay,” said Sofia slowly, something switching on inside of her, shifting her tone from sweet to sour. “You know, you and Ava have never been very nice to me, especially Ava.” Ava shook her head as if to say “Not true,” her sharp bangs swaying. “Ava, how’s that little shoplifting habit going?” said Sofia. “If we looked in your bag, what would we find?” All hundred attendees turned to look at Ava, whose face had gone from red to white to purple. “It’s really too bad your husband’s business collapsed, though I’m sure your girls will thrive in public school.” Ava slipped down in her seat, trying to hide.

“But we’re not here today to talk about Ava,” said Sofia. “Or Trina and her drugs, or your messy divorce, Gabby, or how you all try to bribe Dr. Broker with box seats to the Yankees and cases of wine. Iseveryonesleeping with Dr. Broker? I suppose anyone left over is sleeping with Art Chary. Ay, it’s crazy!”

Everyone froze in fear, thinking about their own, closely guarded secrets. What else did Sofia know?

“Today we’re going to talk about Morgan Chary,” continued Sofia, on a roll now. “Morgan, who vandalized Frost’s art show and hired someone to hit Frost with an e-scooter. I have the scooter rental receipt with your name on it!” Sofia waved a piece of paperin the air dramatically. Morgan stood up to leave but was blocked in by the row of other moms, looking at her accusingly. “Morgan?!” said Frost, turning to her friend in feigned surprise. Sofia carried on. “Morgan, who paid a homeless man to attack Belle, and also leaked her private email,andruined Belle’s company.” Belle then stood up, too, running her hand through her short hair. “It was you!” she said loudly.

“Morgan was the one who slipped drugs into my special pudding, sending you all to the hospital… And that’s not even the half of it,” said Sofia, as Morgan finally pushed through the row and headed toward the exit. The door opened and Mac from the front desk security team entered, blocking Morgan from getting past.

“Mac, move out of the fucking way,” said Morgan. But Mac, a former NYPD officer, wasn’t having it. He put a hand on her wrist. “Morgan Chary, you have to come with me,” he said firmly.

“Adios, Morgan,” Sofia said into the mic.

“This is ridiculous,” said Morgan, repeating herself. “Ridiculous.”

Then the lights in auditorium lowered—Mary did this, happily; she’d been watching the whole thing as avidly as she did her Bravo shows, thinking about how this mean mom deserved this and worse. (Mary’s friend, Nurse Weiss, had learned that the lice email had come from Dr. Broker’s account. It was about time that Atherton’s rotten apples were exposed.)

The projector screen lit up. A Nest Cam video came on, and it soon became clear they were watching scenes from Sofia’s Surrealist Ball, the viewpoint coming from above the bar. There were the over-the-top costumes, the drunken banter, their faces flashing by one by one. There was Bud Cunningham fondling Julie Klein’s butt, Julie smiling at him. (Julie, in a panic, stood up and raced out of the auditorium right then; Trina Cunningham looked as if she mightdie on the spot.) There were Armena Justice and Jennifer Smyth sharing a passionately sloppy French kiss, thinking no one could see. There was Dave Morehouse taking a big sniff of his ketamine nasal spray bottle. It was sickening in the daylight, the excess even more obscene.