old, it was legally possible for her to stay home by herself. That was her wish.
She stared at the sandbar, getting swallowed by the churning water.
No one remembered her dad. The nannies never mentioned him. Her mom wouldn't speak about him since finding out Miss Cynthia, Katie's piano teacher, died with him that night when they got out of the car and walked out onto the sand under the bridge.
She wasn't sure if her mom was more disappointed in losing her husband or the fact that Katie couldn't take piano lessons anymore, and that meant she came home after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and interrupted her mother's time with her man friends.
A hand circled her arm, yanking her backward. "You must listen to me."
She wandered over to her bed, rubbing her arm. If she could stay home by herself, she could look out the window all day if she wanted.
Climbing up on the mattress, she sat down and grabbed her stuffed dog. She was too old for stuffed animals.
The only reason she kept it on her bed was that every time her mom seen Mikey—named after her dead father—she left the room.
Not that her mom came in the bedroom often.
Most of the time, her mom stayed with her man friends, traveling to different parts of the world, and going to restaurants.
"You need to wash your face and put on the dress I set out for you." Ms. Gray put a pair of shoes in front of her on the floor. "Your mother expects you to look nice. There will be company at dinner tonight, and she wants you to be on your best behavior."
She tossed the stuffed dog to the floor and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door to Ms. Gray exhaling loudly when she was forced to pick up the animal.
Something special must be going on at dinner. Maybe her mom was finally going to let her watch herself after school and on the weekends. She brushed her hair. Or, maybe her mother was going to leave on an extended vacation with the current man in her life.
There were only four more days of school and then summer break. It would be perfect if she were left at home without a nanny and without her mom.
The thought of having the whole summer to herself made her hurry. She took off her clothes. The fancy white dress she pulled over her head scratched her skin.
She tugged at the stretchy material clinging to her upper body, pulling the offending roughness away from her chest. A shiver came over her that started from her nipples. She cupped her hands over the small mounds and pressed. A fluttering happened in her underwear, and she pulled her hands away, her heart beating heavily.
Staring down, she touched her chest again. Her boobs were not as big as Demi's, who was twelve years old, too, and wearing a bra. Even the girls in her class who had no boobs wore a bra to school and talked about what size they bought at recess.
She wished her mom would buy her one. Her chest jiggled when she had to do jumping jacks in P.E. class. She wasn't going to ask her mom for anything, especially a bra.
She waited to see if the weird feeling in her body would come back and when nothing else happened, she walked out of the bathroom only to be met by Ms. Gray handing her the pair of flats. She slipped her bare feet into the black shoes.
"Turn around." Ms. Gray twirled her finger in the air.
She rolled her eyes and turned in a circle, completing the inspection with bugged eyes as if she wasn't old enough to dress without someone telling her what to wear. "You can go now."
"Mrs. Meihoff wants me to escort you to the table, and only then will I be excused." Ms. Gray's thin lips pursed. "Let's not be late."
A clap of thunder rocked the room. Katie looked toward the window, wishing she could go look outside.
"Come now." Ms. Gray walked toward the door.
Exhaling loudly, she followed her nanny through the house. It was better to get dinner over with. Hopefully, it wouldn’t end with her mother upset at her.
The grand banister lined the extra wide stairs to the first floor of the house. Red and black runners lined her path. She slid her hand along the smooth, shiny wood, knowing her mom hated fingerprints. The heel of her left shoe clicked against the floor