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she’s my only true friend and were it not for me, you’d have no shop! I do most of the sewing, I create the sketches that you sell downtown as your own. I do the deliveries and everything else that makes your shop such a success!”
    That earned her a slap filled with so much anger and malice, the force of it sent her to the floor. Staring up into the smug pleasure sparkling in her mother’s eyes, Mariah slowly wiped away the blood on her lip. For the first time in her life, she saw the true depths of her mother’s loathing. In spite of all the nastiness and beatings she’d endured, she’d never shown her mother anything but respect. She had no answers to why the hatred existed, but in the face of the satisfaction her mother displayed from having delivered the blow it was plain that it was time to leave. Bible or not, she refused to spend another moment living with such unfounded malevolence. Simmering with rage, she stood. Without a word, she snatched up her handbag and marched out the door. Her mother yelled for her to return but Mariah didn’t slow her steps. She was hurt, furious, and in need of answers to questions that had plagued her for her entire life. The only person who could possibly enlighten her was her mother’s eldest sister, Libby. Getting on the trolley, Mariah ignored the curious looks her bleeding lip garnered and rode silently across town.

Chapter 3
    U nlike Mariah and her mother, Libby Brown lived well, thanks to the estates of her three late husbands. Her large house was in the tonier Black area of the city. The maid answered the door and eyed Mariah and her injured lip suspiciously. “May I help you?”
    “I’m Mariah Cooper, Mrs. Brown’s niece. I wonder if I might speak with her?”
    The hard eyes didn’t soften. “I’ll see if she’s receiving. Wait here, please.”
    A few moments later, Libby appeared, and upon seeing Mariah’s lip, exclaimed, “Oh my gracious, Mariah! What happened to you?”
    “Mother and I had an argument.”
    “Come in. Come in.” Taking her by the hand, she pulled her into the front parlor. “Sit right there. Willa, get her a cold rag.”
    Mariah gingerly touched her swollen lip and shook her head in a mixture of anger and wonder that she and her mother had come to such a terrible state. Willa returned and Mariah pressed the cold compress to the injury. It did much to soothe the fiery sting. Rising to her feet, Mariah walked over to the ornate framed mirror hanging on the wall and surveyed the damage. Her bottom lip was split and puffy. She dabbed at the dried blood gently in an effort to clean it up and once again shook her head.
    Libby’s dark face appeared in the glass behind hers and Mariah saw the empathy her eyes held. “It’s going to take that a few days to heal,” Libby pointed out quietly. “But we’ll keep it cold so the swelling doesn’t increase. Would you like to tell me what happened?”
    They sat in the parlor and Mariah related the story. When she finished, Libby’s lip tightened with disapproval. “Bernice knows how close you and Kaye are. It isn’t right for her to deny you such a small thing, especially when you’ve offered to pay for everything.”
    Mariah agreed. “She’s the only friend I have. May I ask you something?”
    “Of course.”
    “Why does mother hate me so, and please don’t tell me it’s my imagination because I know it isn’t.”
    The expression on her aunt’s face was unfathomable, and after a moment Libby looked off into the distance at something only she could see. The prolonged silence made Mariah think she wouldn’t reply, but eventually she did. “You have your father’s eyes, Mariah. Every time Bernice looks into them, I’m sure she sees him and remembers her pain.”
    “From the grief of his death?”
    “No,” she countered quietly. “The pain of being abandoned and betrayed. Your father, Arna, didn’t pass away, Mariah.”
    Surprise filled her and her voice. “But I was always