Chapter 2

The scent of damp rain and concrete hung over Riverside Courts.

I adjusted my hardhat, holding a roll of drawings under my arm as I walked down the sidewalk. Old residents sitting on folding chairs called out my name, waving.

Riverside was my project. I had spent three years rebuilding the neighborhood where I grew up.

A sudden screech of tires shattered the quiet street. A sleek red sports car pulled up near the curb, loud music blasting from the windows. Four teenagers piled out, laughing loudly.

I recognized the boy in the driver's seat immediately.

Tyler.

"Dude, what is this place?" one of his classmates sneered, looking at the chipped brick buildings. "Ford, why did you pull over here? It smells like garbage."

"I needed to grab a lighter from the gas station," Tyler bragged, leaning against the hood. "Relax, guys. It's just the projects."

My chest tightened. I stepped forward. "Tyler."

Tyler turned around, his smug expression evaporating as he registered me standing five feet away in my work boots and high-visibility vest.

"Who's the site worker, Ford?" one of his friends laughed. "Is she giving you a parking ticket?"

I walked over, keeping my voice level. "You have a junior permit, Tyler. You are not legally allowed to drive friends. And you are supposed to be in class."

Tyler glanced at his friends before looking away from me. "She's not my mom."

Mrs. Gable stopped sweeping her porch across the street.

The words struck harder than I expected. For a second, I could only stare at him. "What did you say?"

"I said, you're not my mom," Tyler repeated, his voice defensive. "She just works for my dad's company."

Tyler had weighed me against three boys he barely knew—and decided I was the embarrassing choice.

"My name is Evelyn Brooks," I said, addressing the three boys in the back seat. "This is my project, and Tyler is my son. He lied to you about two of those things. You can decide how much else he's lied about."

The classmates stopped laughing, exchanging awkward glances. Tyler's face burned red.

I reached through the open window, pulled the car keys out of the ignition, and slipped them into my pocket.

"Hey! Give those back!" Tyler yelled.

"I'm taking the keys," I said. "Your father can come and get them from me."

Ten minutes later, a luxury sedan pulled up down the block. Vanessa stepped out in an elegant wool coat. She walked over, nodding pleasantly to me before turning to Tyler.

"Connor told me what happened, Tyler," Vanessa said gently. "Hop in my car. Your father gave you permission to drive my car today."

Tyler smirked at me, running over to Vanessa's passenger side. "Thanks, Aunt Vanessa. At least you know how to dress when you leave the house."

I stood alone on the pavement as the car drove away. I pulled off my hardhat, my hands steady.

My love for my son remained. My instinct to shield him from every consequence did not.