Chapter 3
Dad stared at Vanessa for several seconds.
Then he asked one question.
"What do you know about Danielle?"
Vanessa's expression changed.
For the first time, she seemed unsure whether to keep talking.
Tasha stood beside the kitchen doorway.
I clutched my blanket.
Vanessa finally whispered, "There's a reason I wanted that camera."
Dad's jaw tightened.
"Tell me."
She looked toward me.
"Not in front of Maya."
Dad shook his head.
"You're not using another secret to control this conversation."
Vanessa began crying.
"Marcus, please."
He picked up his phone.
Then called his younger sister, Aunt Rebecca.
I heard him explain that something serious had happened.
He asked whether she could come stay with me.
Then he turned toward Vanessa.
"We can discuss whatever you know with appropriate people present."
She looked frightened.
"You're calling the police?"
Dad took a breath.
"I'm documenting what happened and getting advice."
Tasha suddenly spoke.
"Mom, I told you this was stupid."
Vanessa spun toward her.
"Be quiet!"
Dad looked at Tasha.
"Don't speak to her like that either."
For a moment, everybody froze.
I had never heard Dad challenge Vanessa so directly.
Tasha lowered her eyes.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Then she whispered, "You're choosing Maya over your marriage."
Dad looked at me.
I was still crying.
He turned back toward Vanessa.
"I'm choosing to protect a child who depended on us."
She didn't answer.
Aunt Rebecca arrived twenty minutes later.
She wore hospital scrubs beneath a gray jacket.
When she saw me, she immediately opened her arms.
"Maya, baby."
I ran toward her.
She hugged me tightly.
"What's happened?"
I buried my face against her shoulder.
"She burned Mommy's camera."
Rebecca stopped moving.
Then she looked toward Vanessa.
Her expression became cold.
"Danielle's camera?"
I nodded.
She held me tighter.
For a moment, I remembered Aunt Rebecca helping Mom choose the camera.
She'd been there on my birthday.
She had taken a picture of Mom handing me the black bag.
Now she looked as though someone had punched her.
Dad explained what the recording showed.
Rebecca listened without interrupting.
Then she asked me whether I'd eaten.
I shook my head.
She kissed my forehead.
"Come on. We're getting you dinner."
Before leaving the room, I looked back.
Vanessa was standing near the stairs.
Tasha had begun crying quietly.
I didn't know what would happen to them.
I only knew I didn't want to stay alone with Vanessa again.
Rebecca took me into the kitchen.
She made grilled cheese sandwiches.
Then sat beside me while I ate.
I could hear Dad speaking with Vanessa in the living room.
Their voices rose occasionally.
But he didn't yell.
I heard him tell her to arrange somewhere else to stay while he sought legal advice.
Vanessa insisted she had rights in the house.
Dad said any housing or marital issues would be handled properly.
But he was taking immediate steps to make sure I was safe.
Rebecca squeezed my hand.
"Do you want to tell me something?"
I looked down.
"Am I bad for not sharing?"
She stared at me.
Then shook her head.
"No."
I swallowed.
"Vanessa says family shares everything."
Rebecca touched my cheek.
"Sharing is something people do willingly."
I looked up.
She continued.
"It doesn't mean someone can take what belongs to you."
My eyes filled with tears.
"Even if they're older?"
"Especially then."
I began crying again.
Rebecca hugged me.
For the first time in months, I felt as though somebody understood.
Later that night, Vanessa and Tasha left with overnight bags.
Dad arranged for them to stay at Vanessa's sister's house while the adults worked through the situation.
He didn't make me watch them leave.
Instead, he came upstairs and sat beside me.
"I want to ask you something, sweetheart."
I nodded.
"Okay."
"Are there other things you've been afraid to tell me?"
My stomach tightened.
I stared at my blanket.
Dad waited.
Then I whispered, "She reads my messages."
His face changed.
"What messages?"
"The ones I send you."
I swallowed.
"Sometimes she takes my tablet and tells me you won't answer."
Dad looked devastated.
I continued.
"And sometimes she deletes them."
For a moment, he couldn't speak.
Then he took my hand.
"Maya, I didn't know."
I nodded.
"I thought you were too busy."
Tears filled his eyes.
He looked toward the window.
Then whispered, "No job is more important than making sure you can reach me."
I began crying.
He hugged me.
"I'm changing how we do things."
I looked up.
"Are you going away again?"
He hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"I may still need to work."
My heart sank.
"But I'm going to arrange things so you always have someone safe you can contact."
I nodded.
"And I'm going to listen when you tell me something is wrong."
I hugged him tighter.
That night, he slept in the guest room across from mine.
He left both doors slightly open.
I hadn't slept that peacefully in months.
The following morning, Dad took the memory card and laptop to his attorney, Olivia Grant.
Aunt Rebecca stayed with me.
I thought everything would finally calm down.
Then Dad called.
Rebecca answered.
Her expression changed immediately.
"What?"
She listened.
Then looked toward me.
I felt frightened.
"Is Daddy okay?"
She nodded quickly.
"He's okay, baby."
But her voice sounded strange.
After the call, Rebecca sat beside me.
"Maya, your father found something on the memory card."
I swallowed.
"What?"
She took a breath.
"An older recording."
My heart tightened.
I remembered that the camera had belonged to Mom.
She used it before I was born.
There were years of pictures and videos on the memory card.
Some were copied from older storage cards.
Rebecca looked toward the window.
Then back at me.
"The recording was made shortly before your mother died."
I stopped breathing.
For a moment, the kitchen disappeared.
I remembered Mom lying in a hospital bed.
Her warm hands.
Her soft voice.
The way she told me not to be afraid.
I stared at Rebecca.
"What recording?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Your mother was speaking to someone."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
Rebecca hesitated.
Then whispered, "Vanessa."
My heart began pounding.
May you like
Because Vanessa had always told me she barely knew my mother.
And now Dad had discovered proof that they'd been speaking before Mom died.
