Celeste made agreeable murmurs as the conversation flew, presided over by a flushed, animated, almost feverish Madeline.

“Apparently Amabella hasn’t actually said that it is Ziggy. Renata is just assuming it is because of what happened on orientation day.”

“I heard there were bite marks, which is pretty horrifying at this age.”

“There was a biter at Lily’s day care. She’d come home black-and-blue. I must admit I wanted to murder the little brat who did it, but her mother was so nice. She was in a state over it.”

“That’s the thing. It’s actually worse if your child is the one doing the bullying.”

“I mean, we’re talking about children here!”

“My question is, why aren’t the teachers seeing this?”

“Can’t Renata just make Amabella say who is responsible? She’s five years old!”

“I guess when you’re talking about a gifted child—”

“Oh, I didn’t know, is Ziggy gifted?”

“Not Ziggy. Annabella. She’s definitely gifted.”

“It’s Amabella, not Annabella.”

“Is that one of those made-up names?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s French! Haven’t you heard Renata talk about it?”

“Well, that kid has a lifetime ahead of her of people getting her name wrong.”

“Harrison plays with Ziggy every day. He’s never had any problems.”

“A petition! It’s just ridiculous. It’s petty. This quiche is great, by the way, Madeline, did you make it?”

“I heated it up.”

“Well, it’s like when Renata handed out those invitations to everyone in the class except Ziggy. I thought that was unconscionable.”

“I mean, can a public school expel a child? Is it even possible? Don’t the public schools have to take everyone?”

“My husband thinks we’ve all gone too soft. He says we’re too ready to label kids bullies these days when they’re just being kids.”

“He might have a point.”

“Although biting and choking—”

“Mmmm. If it were my child—”

“You wouldn’t do a petition.”

“Well, no.”

“Renata has pots of money. Why doesn’t she send Amabella off to private school? Then she won’t have to deal with the riffraff.”

“I like Ziggy. I like Jane too. It can’t be easy doing everything on her own.”

“Is there a father, does anyone know?”

“Should we talk about the book?” This was Madeline, finally remembering she was hosting a book club.

“I guess we should.”

“Who has actually signed this petition so far?”

“I don’t know. I bet Harper has signed it.”

“Harper started the petition.”

“Doesn’t Renata work with Harper’s husband or something? Or wait, am I mixed up, is it your husband, Celeste?”

All eyes were suddenly upon Celeste, as if they’d been given an invisible signal. She gripped the stem of her wineglass.

“Renata and Perry are in the same industry,” said Celeste. “They just know of each other.”

“We haven’t met Perry yet, have we?” said Samantha. “He’s a man of mystery.”

“He travels a lot,” said Celeste. “He’s in Genova at the moment.”

No, it was Geneva. Definitely Geneva.

There was still a strange lull in the conversation. An expectant air. Had she spoken oddly?

She felt as if everyone was waiting for more from her.

“You’ll meet him at that trivia night,” she said. Perry, unlike many men, loved costume parties. He’d been keen when she’d checked his schedule and saw that he’d be home for it.

“You’ll need a pearl necklace like Audrey wears in Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he’d told her. “I’ll get you one from Swiss Pearls in Geneva.”

“No,” she said. “Please don’t.”

You were meant to wear cheap costume jewelry when you went to a costume party school trivia night, not a necklace worth more than the money they needed to raise for SMART Boards.

He’d buy her exactly the right necklace. He loved jewelry. It would cost as much as a car, and it would be exquisite, and when Madeline saw it she’d be delirious and Celeste would long to unclasp it from her neck and hand it over. “Buy one for Madeline too,” she had wanted to say, and he would have if she had asked, with pleasure, but of course Madeline would never accept such a gift. Yet it seemed ridiculous that she couldn’t hand over something that would give Madeline such genuine happiness.

“Is everyone going to the trivia night?” she said brightly. “It sounds like fun!”

Samantha: Have you seen photos from the trivia night? Celeste looked breathtaking. People were staring. Apparently that pearl necklace was the real McCoy. But you know what? I was looking at some of the photos and there’s something sad about her face, a look in her eyes, as if she’d seen a ghost. It’s almost like she knew something terrible was going to happen that night.

45.

That was fun. Maybe next time we’ll actually remember to talk about the book,” said Madeline.

Celeste was the last one there and was efficiently scraping plates and putting them into Madeline’s dishwasher.