Chapter 2
I replayed those five words three times.
"We'll deal with her afterward."
Every time I heard them, my stomach twisted.
I wanted Denise to explain what they meant.
I wanted her to say something that made the recording less frightening.
But she just stood there, staring at Maya's phone.
"Marcus, you're misunderstanding everything."
I looked at her.
"Then explain it."
She swallowed.
"Raymond is a business associate."
"What business?"
"It's complicated."
"Try me."
Denise looked toward Maya.
"Not in front of the child."
I pulled my daughter's chair closer to me.
"You lost the right to decide what she hears when you threatened her."
Denise's expression hardened.
"I never threatened her."
I held up the phone.
"Your voice says otherwise."
She reached toward me.
"Let me hear the whole recording."
"You'll hear it when I'm ready."
Her eyes flashed.
"This is my house too!"
That sentence stopped me.
I'd purchased the house seven years earlier.
Before I even met Denise.
My first wife, Alicia, and I had chosen it together.
Maya had been a baby when we moved in.
After Alicia died, the house became the last place where my daughter could feel close to her mother.
I married Denise two years later.
I'd added her to some household accounts.
But the house remained in my name.
"What papers were you talking about?" I asked.
Denise's face tightened.
"You're being paranoid."
"Was it the refinancing paperwork?"
She looked away.
Three weeks earlier, Denise had suggested refinancing our mortgage.
She said we could use the extra money to renovate the kitchen and pay for a family vacation.
I'd told her I wanted to think about it.
She became upset.
Now I understood why.
"Denise."
She looked back.
"Answer me."
She threw up her hands.
"Fine! Raymond helps people with real estate investments."
"Why was he coming into my house?"
"He was helping me prepare paperwork."
"While I was working?"
"Yes!"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you criticize everything I do!"
I stared at her.
That was her usual defense.
Whenever I questioned a decision, she accused me of being controlling.
Whenever I disagreed, she said I didn't respect her.
I'd spent two years apologizing for arguments I barely understood.
Tonight, I wasn't apologizing.
I turned toward Maya.
"Sweetheart, have you eaten anything today?"
She hesitated.
"Breakfast."
My heart sank.
"What about lunch?"
Denise interrupted.
"She refused lunch."
Maya shook her head.
"She said I couldn't eat because I spilled juice."
I looked at the clock.
It was nearly seven in the evening.
My nine-year-old daughter had gone almost the entire day without food.
I felt sick.
I picked up her plate.
The roasted chicken was still warm.
I placed it in front of her.
"Eat, baby."
She looked at Denise.
I noticed.
And it broke my heart.
"Look at me, Maya."
She turned.
"You never need permission to eat when you're hungry."
Her eyes filled again.
"Okay, Daddy."
I sat beside her while she took the first bite.
Denise stood there with her arms crossed.
"So I'm the villain now?"
I didn't respond.
She continued.
"I cook. I clean. I take care of your daughter while you're out making money."
I looked up.
"Taking care of Maya doesn't mean punishing her with hunger."
Denise laughed bitterly.
"You've always spoiled her."
"She's nine."
"And she's old enough to manipulate you!"
Maya put down her fork.
I saw her shoulders tighten.
That was when I made my decision.
"Denise, I'm taking Maya to my mother's house tonight."
My wife stared at me.
"You're joking."
"No."
"You can't just take her away!"
"I'm her father."
"I'm her stepmother!"
"And right now, she's frightened of you."
Denise pointed at Maya.
"See what you've done? You've ruined this family!"
Maya burst into tears.
I stood immediately.
"Do not blame my daughter."
Denise stepped toward us.
"I gave up everything to marry you!"
I held my ground.
"Then explain why you're discussing taking my house with another man."
She froze.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Denise lowered her voice.
"Marcus, please. Let's talk upstairs."
"No."
"You're making a mistake."
"Maybe. But the biggest mistake would be ignoring what Maya showed me."
I helped my daughter finish dinner.
Then I packed a small overnight bag.
Denise followed me through the hallway.
"Where are you going?"
"To Mom's."
"You can't abandon me!"
"I'm not abandoning anyone. I'm giving us space while I find out what's happening."
She grabbed my arm.
"Marcus, listen."
I pulled away.
"Do not touch me."
Her expression changed.
For the first time, she seemed to understand that crying and shouting wouldn't change my mind.
I took Maya's hand.
We walked toward the front door.
Then Denise said something strange.
"If you leave tonight, Raymond is going to be furious."
I stopped.
Slowly, I turned around.
"Why would Raymond care?"
Denise looked horrified.
As though the words had escaped before she could stop them.
I waited.
She whispered, "Forget I said that."
But I couldn't.
Because Raymond wasn't supposed to have anything to do with our marriage.
I took Maya outside.
As I opened the car door, she pulled my sleeve.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can I tell you something else?"
I knelt beside her.
"Anything."
She glanced at the house.
"Raymond has a key."
I went still.
"What?"
"He opens the front door when you're at work."
I looked toward our home.
The porch light glowed warmly.
Everything looked normal.
But I suddenly realized how little I knew about what happened there while I was away.
"How long has he been coming?"
Maya looked down.
"Since before Christmas."
Six months.
A stranger had been entering my house for six months.
And my daughter had been afraid to tell me.
I helped her into the car.
Then I called my mother.
"Mom, I'm coming over with Maya."
She heard something in my voice.
"Marcus, what's wrong?"
I swallowed.
"I'll explain when I get there."
I glanced into the rearview mirror.
Maya was staring at the house.
"Mom?"
May you like
"Yes?"
"Please make sure the front door is locked."
