ISADORA
"I don't know, Mom," I say sweetly. trying desperately not to sound as nervous as I feel. "Why would Dad be mad at me for anything?"
"I don't know, Isadora." She sighs, exasperated. "He called me and asked me to tell you that he wants to see you this Friday. You make sure you go to your father's directly after classes, before you come here."
"Sure, Mom. Don't worry about that. What did he say to make you sound so agitated?"
"You know how your father is. He called me yelling about you messing up and that I'm not being a good influence on you."
Anger washes over me as soon as these words leave her lips. Why is he always like this? "I'll take care of this, Mom. Don't worry. Don't listen to him, either."
"What did you do, filha?"
"Nothing, Mom. I have no idea what he's talking a
