Trail of Broken Wings

“I have a study session tonight,” Gia calls out, sharing a glance with Adam.

“Right. Study hard,” Marin says, giving nothing away.




Almost Gia’s dismissal time. Marin has waited impatiently. Work failed to keep her occupied. Without telling Raj of her plans, she gets into her car and drives to the school and parks at a distance. From her vantage, she’ll be able to see Gia without being detected. When the final bell rings, students pour out the front door. The younger classmen head toward rides while the upperclassmen go toward the parking lot where their cars are parked. Marin spots Gia immediately. Her backpack is thrown carelessly over her shoulder. She is surrounded by her friends, some of whom Marin doesn’t recognize. Relieved, Marin watches them walk toward a waiting car. Seconds later, Adam exits the school. Marin assumes he calls Gia’s name, because she turns. Marin sees the struggle on Gia’s face before she says something inaudible to her friends. Soon enough she turns toward Adam, slipping her hand into his. Waving good-bye to her friends, Gia gets into Adam’s car and they drive off.

Driving a safe distance behind them, Marin watches as they pull in front of a house in Redwood City, a few miles north of their home. It’s large, with a well-kept yard and luxury vehicles parked in the road. The neighboring homes are similar in style and square footage. Adam pulls into the driveway and both exit the car. From Gia’s behavior, Marin can tell she’s been here before. Gia waits while Adam unlocks the front door with a key. Following him in, Gia shuts the door, not catching sight of Marin sitting in her car a few doors down.

Marin watches, waiting. One hour turns to two, until soon enough the sun sets and dusk falls. Marin doesn’t leave her place, her eyes focused on the front door. Nearing ten p.m., Gia’s curfew, Adam exits the house first, followed by Gia. They get into his car and start to drive. Marin quickly starts her own car, increasing her speed to reach home before they do. Once there, she pulls into the garage, shutting it quickly behind her. She sprints into the house just as she hears the jingle of keys in the front door. Smoothing her hair back, she goes into her office to wait. When the front door slams shut, Marin steps out of her office to see Gia locking up.

“How was studying?” Marin asks, watching Raj come down the stairs at the sound of the door.

“Good,” Gia says, avoiding her eyes. “I should get to bed.”

“Do you want anything to eat?” Raj asks, his eyes curious.

“We grabbed a bite.” Gia starts to move past Marin toward the stairs.

“Who dropped you off?” Marin asks casually, already turning back toward her office. She makes no mention of Adam or the revelation at school.

“One of the moms.”

Not even a breath to consider the lie or a pause to wonder if telling the truth is better. When Gia was a child, Marin always knew how to tell she was lying—Gia would tap her left foot. First it would be sporadically, but as Gia continued the lie, it would get faster. Unable to control it, she would cover her left foot with the right, hoping to quiet the movement.

Over the years Gia had mastered the urge and almost rid herself of it completely. Marin hadn’t seen the action for quite a while. She assumed it was because Gia had stopped finding reasons to lie. Now she understood Gia had simply learned to be a better liar.

“Good.” Marin stops, turning toward both Raj and Gia at the same time. “I almost forgot,” she says, stopping Gia’s escape. “When I dropped off your book today, the principal pulled me aside. Mentioned that legally she has to contact child services when a child has been abused.”

“What?” Raj swallows, his mouth forming into a thin line.

Sejal Badani's books