Chapter 19: Hattie Chooses

The dean of Columbia's architecture school flew to London overnight to say it to my daughter's face.

She stood in the Holborn boardroom on Wednesday afternoon in a gray coat.

A university lawyer stood at her shoulder, and she held a leather folder in both hands.

My father sat at the head of the table, because it was his table.

Cedric stood by the window, three feet from me, and each time our eyes met he looked away first.

I had not stopped thinking about the hotel for two days.

Neither, from the color in his neck, had he.

Alana sat at the very back with her mother's lawyer.

Hattie came in last, in her denim jacket and paint-stained fingers, carrying a cardboard tube under one arm.

She sat down across from the dean and did not say hello.

"Miss Rainey," the dean said. "Thank you for seeing me."

"Okay."

"I'll be direct. We made a terrible mistake."

"A parent called, and we acted on his word."

"We gave your seat to a student whose file was false."

"Yes," Hattie said. "You did."

The dean flushed.

"We would like to reinstate your admission with the full scholarship, a named studio, and a personal letter of apology from the president."

"The offer is open until you choose."

She slid the folder across.

Hattie did not touch it.

She looked at the folder, at the lawyer, and at my father's partners standing along the wall to watch.

"How long did it take?" she said.

"I'm sorry?"

"To withdraw all six of my applications. How long did the call take?"

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