“Shauna is right,” Rosa says. “I need to keep mingling with our guests—”
“This will only take a minute,” says Quint. “And it can’t wait.”
“It will have to,” says Shauna. “Rosa, I see Grace Livingstone’s family over at table nine. I think you should probably offer your condolences.”
I turn around and spy not just Maya’s parents, but Maya herself, wearing a royal-blue shift dress and looking beyond bored.
“Oh, you’re right.” Rosa puts a hand over her heart. “Grace was such a good supporter.” Then she pauses, her tone going cold again. “But I suppose you already know that, don’t you?” She gives me a look, and I bristle.
She goes to walk past us, Shauna on her heels, but Quint blocks their path. “I don’t want to make a scene,” he says. “But this is important. Please.”
Shauna’s cheeks take on a reddish hue, and her eyes spark. Suddenly, she looks like a different person. An angry person. A defensive person. A person suddenly, unexpectedly backed into a corner.
“You don’t want to make a scene?” she says, and unlike Quint’s, her voice goes higher. We’re beginning to draw attention, which I suspect is exactly what she wants. She tosses her arm in my direction. “Then what is she doing here, Quint? And why are you with her? She is a liar and a thief. She has no business being here and I think she should leave.”
“Shauna,” Rosa hisses, even while trying to smile at the nearest guests. “Okay, Quint. Fine. Let’s step back into the auditorium and you can say what you need to say.”
“No,” says Shauna. “This is typical adolescent peer pressure, Rosa. And while I know he is your son, you do not need to tolerate this. For him to bring in this drama on our big night—the center’s big night. You should know better, Quint.” She clucks her tongue in a way that vaguely reminds me of my grandmother. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
She tries to step around Quint, but this time I step forward, my arms crossed. I’m shaking with adrenaline and anger. And unlike Quint, I’m not so worried about making a scene.
After all, I know there are reporters here, planning to do a big write-up about the event in this week’s papers. Quint may not agree with this, but as far as I’m concerned, no publicity is bad publicity. Make a big enough scene and we might even make the front page.
“I’m not the one causing all the drama,” I say, my voice loud enough that all the people who are pretending not to eavesdrop can hear me plainly. “You are, Shauna. You stole that money, just like you stole money from your last job, just like you’ve stolen the donations from tonight’s ticket sales.” I look at Rosa, who looks appalled and embarrassed, but also the tiniest bit curious. “That’s why there’s never as much money in the account as you think there should be. Shauna has been embezzling it. She’s done it before.”
Rosa is shaking her head. “What are you … okay. That’s enough. Let’s go. Into the theater. Come on.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” says Shauna. “And I will not stand here and listen to these unfounded accusations!”
“I checked tonight’s ticket sales,” says Quint. “I know you’re having funds routed directly to your own bank account.”
There’s a gasp around us, and I realize we’ve become the center of attention. Everyone has gone silent. Everyone is watching. Even the music has stopped.
“But … Shauna has been with us for more than a decade,” says Rosa. “I would have…” She trails off, and I know she’s wondering whether she would have noticed if Shauna was stealing from her. She’s always so busy, but her roles at the center are managing the people and caring for the animals, not the finances. When it comes to money, all she does is sign where she’s told to sign.
Where Shauna tells her to sign.
She looks at Shauna, dismayed. “Is this true?”
“Of course not,” Shauna spits, and it’s easily the worst lie she’s ever told. Her face has gone red, her breathing short, her eyes ablaze. “This girl”—she points a finger at me—“this girl has been nothing but trouble since day one.” She takes a step closer. I hold my ground, relatively certain that she wouldn’t try to hit me, not surrounded by this many people. Even so, I see Quint tense out of the corner of my eye, and I brace myself for whatever horrible thing she’ll say next, knowing that