Chapter 5
Amanda left the house that afternoon.
Not in handcuffs.
Not yet.
The officers said they had to speak with child protective services, review the recording, and file reports.
But Dad told Amanda she could not stay there that night.
She shouted.
She cried.
She called him cruel.
She said he was choosing me over his marriage.
Dad stood at the bottom of the stairs with Lily holding one hand and me holding the other.
“I am choosing the children,” he said.
Amanda looked at Lily.
“Come with me.”
Lily stepped behind Dad.
Amanda’s face twisted.
“Lily.”
My sister whispered, “I want to stay with Ethan.”
Amanda stared at her like Lily had betrayed her.
I knew that look.
I had seen it many times.
But this time Lily saw it too.
Amanda packed a bag while Mrs. Keller stayed with us in the living room.
Dad made grilled cheese sandwiches.
Two plates.
Two sandwiches.
Two cups of milk.
Two apple slices cut the same way.
When he placed mine in front of me, I stared at it too long.
Dad noticed.
His eyes filled.
“Ethan.”
I picked up the sandwich.
My hands shook.
“Do I have to finish fast?”
Dad closed his eyes.
“No.”
“Can I save some?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be mad?”
He came around the table and knelt beside me.
“No. I will never be mad because you eat, save food, ask for food, or need food.”
Lily pushed her plate closer to mine.
“We can trade apple slices if you want.”
I almost smiled.
Dad laughed softly through tears.
Amanda came downstairs dragging a suitcase.
She looked at the table.
Her mouth tightened.
“So now you’re throwing a pity party.”
Dad stood.
“Leave.”
She looked at Lily again.
“You’ll regret this when he forgets about you.”
Lily’s lips trembled.
Dad stepped forward.
“Do not put that on her.”
Amanda left.
The door closed.
The house went quiet.
Not peaceful.
Just empty of shouting.
That night, Dad let us sleep in his room.
Lily on one side.
Me on the other.
He stayed awake in a chair facing the door.
I woke up twice and saw him still there.
The second time, I whispered, “Dad?”
He leaned forward.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Did Mom leave because of me?”
He moved to the bed immediately.
“No.”
“My first mom left.”
Dad’s face broke.
My first mother had died when I was three.
People said “passed away,” but to a child, gone is gone.
Dad sat beside me and held my hand.
“Your mom did not leave you. She got sick, and she loved you until the very last second she could.”
“And Amanda?”
He swallowed.
“Amanda made choices that hurt you.”
“Because I’m not hers?”
“No,” he said firmly. “Because something in her was wrong, and she did not fix it before it touched you.”
Lily whispered in the dark, “Is something wrong in me too?”
Dad reached across me and took her hand.
“No, sweetheart.”
“She’s my mom.”
“I know.”
“If she’s mean, am I mean?”
“No.”
Lily started crying.
Dad climbed onto the bed and pulled us both against him.
“You are both children. You are both loved. Adults are responsible for what they do. Not kids.”
I wanted to believe him.
May you like
Part of me did.
Part of me still listened for Amanda’s footsteps.
