Chapter 4
At ten the next morning, Dad opened the front door before Vanessa could use her key.
She stood with Mia on the porch. Mia had a tote bag and a face full of resentment.
“We’re here for her schoolbooks,” Vanessa said.
“I know. Come in.”
I was sitting at the kitchen table with my own bag beside my feet. Grandma had offered to take me out, but I wanted to see what happened in my house.
Mia came in without looking at me. She went upstairs. Vanessa stayed near the door.
“You changed the lock?” she asked Dad.
“Yes.”
“You could have told me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
They spoke quietly while Mia moved around her room. I heard drawers opening. Then the hall closet door. Then my bedroom door.
I stood.
“Dad.”
He was already heading upstairs.
Mia was in my room, holding a stack of folders from my desk.
“I was looking for the school calendar,” she said.
“In my desk?” I asked.
“I thought you might have put it there.”
Dad held out his hand. “Give her the folders.”
Mia thrust them at him. A folded page slipped free and fell to the floor.
I picked it up.
It was my first housing grant application. My signature was on the last page. Across the top, someone had written VOID in thick black marker.
For a moment, I could hear nothing.
Mia looked at the paper and then away.
“Why was this in your hand?” Dad asked.
“It was already in there.”
“It was missing from Aaliyah’s folder,” he said.
“So she lost it.”
I unfolded the page. The last section had been cut off. It contained the address where I was supposed to send the form.
“You did this,” I said.
Mia rolled her eyes. “You printed another one, didn’t you?”
Dad’s voice dropped. “Answer her.”
“I found it. I didn’t mail it. Big deal.”
“You wrote on it,” I said. “You cut the address off.”
She looked at me with the same expression she’d worn when I found the dress.
“You were getting everything. Dad’s money. Grandma’s attention. A room at college.”
“I got a scholarship.”
“Exactly. Another prize for perfect Aaliyah.”
Dad stepped closer. “That grant could decide whether she can afford to live near campus.”
“She always figures it out.”
Vanessa came up the stairs. Dad showed her the damaged application.
“You said Mia only cut the dress because she was upset,” he said. “What do you call this?”
Vanessa looked from the paper to Mia. “Did you take it?”
Mia said nothing.
“Mia.”
“I didn’t think it mattered. She had a week.”
I waited for Vanessa to tell her she was wrong. She closed her eyes, then said, “You should have left her papers alone.”
It was the first time I had heard her criticize Mia. It was so small that I almost missed it.
Dad didn’t.
“She tried to keep Aaliyah from applying.”
“I didn’t say she was right,” Vanessa replied.
“You keep finding ways to make it sound harmless.”
Mia dropped her tote on the floor.
“You cut up my bag. When do you get punished?”
“I’ll pay for what I did,” Dad said. “You need to take responsibility for what you did.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’ll pay Aaliyah back for her dress. And you won’t have access to her room or her things.”
Mia gave a sharp laugh. “With what money?”
“You have savings from your summer job,” Vanessa said quietly.
Mia stared at her. “You’re taking his side now?”
“I’m telling you what you did was wrong.”
Mia snatched up her tote and went downstairs. Vanessa followed her after a moment.
Dad stayed with me.
“I’m mailing the new application today,” he said. “We can ask for a receipt.”
I handed him the damaged page. “Keep this too.”
“I will.”
We checked the new envelope together. Then we drove to the post office and sent it with tracking. I watched the clerk put it into a bin behind the counter.
Only then did I breathe easily.
On the way home, Dad told me he and Vanessa had spoken to a counselor about meeting together. Vanessa wanted to try to repair the family. Dad had said he would attend one session but would not ask me to go.
“Do you want me there?” I asked.
“I want you to choose where you feel comfortable. That’s different.”
I looked out the window. “I don’t want to be in a room where they explain why I deserved it.”
“Then you won’t be.”
When we got home, Mia’s textbook was gone. So was the rest of the designer bag. Vanessa had left her house key on the hall table.
Dad picked it up and sat down.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m sad about my marriage,” he said. “And I’m glad you’re here telling me what you need.”
I sat beside him.
“I was scared you’d make them come back.”
“I know.”
He put the key in a drawer. Neither of us spoke for a while.
Then my phone rang. The number belonged to the college housing office.
I answered so fast I nearly dropped it.
A woman on the line said they had received a message asking to withdraw my grant application. She wanted to confirm it with me.
May you like
I looked at Dad.
“I never sent that message,” I said.
