Chapter 7
Leo sat on the edge of my bed and told me everything.
Vanessa had called while Dad was in the kitchen. Aunt Ruth was with Maya, and Leo had taken the phone into the hallway for privacy. At first, his mother asked about school.
Then she asked whether he remembered the box clearly.
“She said I was tired that night,” he told me. “She said if I tell people I got confused, everyone can come home.”
“You weren’t confused.”
“I know.”
His eyes filled. “She said Maya will blame me if our family breaks apart.”
I moved closer. “That isn’t yours to carry.”
He wiped his face with his sleeve. “I still love her.”
“You can love her and tell the truth.”
He looked at the box on my shelf. “I wish I hadn’t waited to tell you.”
I wished he had spoken sooner too. But I remembered how quiet I had been whenever Vanessa entered a room.
I went downstairs with him. Dad listened without interrupting. Then he thanked Leo for telling us and called Ms. Alvarez.
The next day, Dad arranged for Leo and Maya to speak with a counselor. He asked the school to make sure I had someone I could visit during the day too. For once, he didn’t tell me I would be fine. He asked how I was sleeping and waited for the real answer.
“Badly,” I said.
“I can stay up with you.”
“I don’t need you to stay awake all night.”
“Then wake me when you need me.”
That afternoon, Ms. Alvarez called Dad. The investigator wanted to ask me about the missing letters. I agreed if Aunt Ruth could sit beside me.
I described the envelopes, their dates, and the shelf where I kept them. I also told the investigator what Leo had said about the phone call. She thanked me and said Leo could tell her directly when he was ready.
By dinner, the police had spoken with Peter again. He remembered Vanessa leaving his office with a white folder as well as the envelopes. Peter’s assistant had seen Vanessa stop at the locked shred bin in the hall, but she could not say whether Vanessa put anything inside.
A company collected that bin once a month.
Dad asked for the collection date.
It was tomorrow.
The investigator contacted Peter’s office and arranged to preserve the bin. I spent that night imagining my mother’s words cut into thin pieces. Aunt Ruth sat with me until I fell asleep.
In the morning, the investigator called.
The letters were there.
All three missing envelopes were inside the bin, still sealed. Vanessa had slipped them through the slot without shredding them herself.
Dad picked me up from school to tell me. I made him say it twice.
“Are they okay?”
“They look intact. The investigator has to keep them for now. She said we’ll get them back.”
I laughed and cried at the same time. Dad pulled into a parking spot and let me hold on to him until I was ready to go home.
For one afternoon, I felt light enough to run up the stairs.
Then Vanessa called Dad.
I heard only his side of the conversation from the kitchen.
“No. You cannot ask Leo to change his account.”
A pause.
“I will make sure the children can talk to you with someone present.”
Another pause.
“You chose to sell those things. Nia did not cause this.”
When he hung up, he told me Vanessa had learned the letters were found. She wanted to apologize to me.
“I’m not ready,” I said.
“I told her that.”
Aunt Ruth came over for dinner. She was leaving for home the next morning but promised to visit every weekend. Dad asked if I wanted her to stay longer.
“I can call her,” I said. “And you’ll be here.”
He looked surprised, then pleased. I hadn’t meant it as forgiveness for everything. I had meant that I wanted him to keep showing up.
Later, I found him in the hallway taking down a family photograph. It had been hung the year after he married Vanessa. I stood at the foot of the stairs, unsure what he planned to do with it.
He saw me and carried it over.
“It’s going into the study for now,” he said. “Leo and Maya are in it. I won’t throw away their picture.”
“Okay.”
“I found another frame in the cupboard. Would you help me choose a photo of your mother for the hallway?”
I looked at the empty space on the wall.
“Yes.”
As we sorted through an album, Dad’s phone rang again. It was Ms. Alvarez.
He listened, then closed the album.
May you like
“What happened?” I asked.
“Vanessa has asked to meet,” he said. “She says she can explain why she tried to take the money.”
