“I studied,” I muttered softly. “I want you to know that before anything else. I studied every day for three weeks. I don’t know why—”

“You failed.” She set the paper on the table. “You failed, Aurora. Again.”

“I know.”

“Your father paid for this education.” She stood, smoothing her skirt with the automatic precision of a woman who maintained appearances even when she was furious. “He is going to be home at seven. You have”—she checked her watch—“two hours to figure out what you’re going to say to him.”

“What am I going to say?” I looked up at her. “Mom.”

“Don’t.” Her voice cut clean and cold. “Don’t...