Chapter 3
Dad didn't open Vanessa's desk.
Not right away.
Instead, he called Aunt Denise.
She was his older sister, and she lived twenty minutes away.
I heard him speaking quietly in the kitchen.
"Denise, I need you to come over."
A pause.
"No, the children are safe right now."
Another pause.
His voice broke.
"I think I've missed something terrible."
I sat beside Jordan on the couch.
The birthday decorations were still hanging above us.
The cake remained untouched.
Chloe had fallen asleep against my shoulder.
Jordan stared at his shoes.
Then he whispered, "I'm sorry."
I looked at him.
"For what?"
"For not telling Daddy."
My throat tightened.
"Jordan, you're seven."
He shrugged.
"Mommy said you'd hate me if I told."
I felt tears filling my eyes.
"I could never hate you."
He looked up.
"Promise?"
I held out my little finger.
"Promise."
He wrapped his finger around mine.
For the first time that day, I saw him smile.
Aunt Denise arrived wearing jeans and a yellow sweater.
She walked straight into the living room.
Then she saw my face.
"Nia?"
I stood.
She opened her arms.
I ran into them.
She hugged me tightly.
"What happened, baby?"
I couldn't answer.
Dad stepped into the room.
"Denise, I need you to stay with the kids while I sort this out."
She looked at him.
Then at Vanessa.
Her expression hardened.
"All right."
Vanessa laughed.
"This is becoming a circus."
Aunt Denise turned toward her.
"Then stop performing."
Vanessa's mouth fell open.
I'd never heard anyone speak to her that way.
Dad looked toward the hallway.
He asked Vanessa to retrieve the notebook and not alter anything.
She refused.
He contacted the police nonemergency line for guidance and explained that he had found a recording of his daughter being hurt.
The dispatcher sent officers to check on us.
Vanessa immediately became furious.
"You called the police on your own wife?"
Dad looked exhausted.
"I called because my child has an injury and I'm concerned about her safety."
She pointed at me.
"This is what she wanted!"
I flinched.
Aunt Denise moved in front of me.
"Don't you dare blame her."
Vanessa looked around as though searching for someone to support her.
Nobody did.
When the officers arrived, Dad showed them the recording.
One officer spoke with him.
Another asked whether I would feel comfortable talking in a separate room with Aunt Denise nearby.
I nodded.
We sat at the kitchen table.
The officer was a woman named Officer Brooks.
She spoke gently.
"Nia, can you tell me what happened today?"
I looked at Aunt Denise.
She squeezed my hand.
I told Officer Brooks about the picture frame.
The drawer.
Vanessa grabbing my arm.
The pain.
Then she asked whether anything similar had happened before.
My stomach tightened.
I stared at the table.
"Nia?"
I whispered, "Yes."
Aunt Denise's hand went still.
Officer Brooks waited.
I told them about the chores.
The punishments.
The times Vanessa made me stand alone in the hallway while Jordan and Chloe ate dinner.
I told them how she sometimes grabbed my shoulders when I moved too slowly.
How she called me useless.
How she told me Dad didn't want me anymore.
Aunt Denise started crying.
I felt ashamed.
I'd made everyone upset.
Then Officer Brooks said something I hadn't expected.
"You haven't done anything wrong by telling us."
I looked at her.
She continued.
"Adults are responsible for keeping children safe."
For some reason, hearing that made me cry harder.
Afterward, Dad took me to a medical clinic.
A doctor examined my bruising and documented the injury.
She asked how I was feeling.
I said I was scared.
She looked at Dad.
Then she told him I would need support and time to feel safe again.
Dad nodded.
"I'll make sure she gets it."
When we returned home, Vanessa was gone.
Her black suitcase was missing from the hallway closet.
Dad told us she would be staying somewhere else while the authorities reviewed what happened.
I looked at him.
"Is she coming back?"
He crouched beside me.
"Not to live here while there's any question about your safety."
I swallowed.
"Are you mad at me?"
He looked shocked.
"Why would I be mad at you?"
"Because I ruined the party."
His face crumpled.
He held my hands.
"Nia, you didn't ruin anything."
I looked toward the cake.
"But Jordan didn't get his birthday."
Dad turned toward my brother.
Jordan shrugged.
"It's okay."
Then he looked at me.
"I got my present."
I frowned.
"What?"
He smiled shyly.
"Daddy found the picture frame."
My heart jumped.
Dad reached into his pocket.
He pulled out the little blue frame I'd made.
The stars were crooked.
One corner was bent.
But the photograph was still inside.
Jordan took it carefully.
"I love it."
I began crying.
He hugged me.
"I want it beside my bed."
Dad wiped his eyes.
Aunt Denise turned away, pretending to look for plates.
For a few minutes, the house felt warm again.
Then Dad's phone rang.
I watched his expression change as he listened.
When he ended the call, he looked toward Aunt Denise.
"What is it?" she asked.
He hesitated.
Then he said, "The officers found the notebook."
My stomach tightened.
Vanessa had left it inside her desk.
Dad said they were preserving it as part of their investigation.
I looked down.
I knew what was written inside.
Or at least I thought I did.
But Dad's expression frightened me.
He sat beside me.
"Nia, sweetheart, there's something I need to ask."
I nodded.
"Did Vanessa ever ask you to sign papers?"
I frowned.
"Sometimes."
His face changed.
"What kind of papers?"
"School things."
"Anything else?"
I tried to remember.
Then a memory returned.
Vanessa sitting at the dining table.
A stack of printed pages.
A blue pen.
Her telling me I needed to practice writing my full name.
I looked at Dad.
"She made me sign papers about Mommy."
He went completely still.
My mother had died when I was four.
Dad rarely spoke about her without crying.
He swallowed.
"What papers?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
He took my hand.
"Did she tell you what they were for?"
I stared at him.
Then whispered, "She said they were so you could stop paying for me."
Dad's face went white.
Aunt Denise covered her mouth.
May you like
And suddenly, I realized Vanessa hadn't only been trying to push me out of family pictures.
She might have been trying to push me out of our family altogether.
