Chapter 5
Ms. Ellis didn't ask me whether I liked doing chores.
She asked what happened if I couldn't finish them.
Dad and I sat together in her office after school. A box of tissues rested on the table between us, but Ms. Ellis didn't push it toward me.
“Vanessa gets angry,” I said. “Sometimes she tells Dad I refused to help. Sometimes she takes my phone.”
“What happens with meals?”
I glanced at Dad.
He nodded, though it was hard for him to hear.
“If the dishes aren't done, I eat later. Once I went to bed before I ate because I fell asleep.”
Dad shut his eyes.
Ms. Ellis wrote down what I said. She explained that she needed to follow the school's process for concerns about a child's safety. Dad told her about the clinic visit and gave her the doctor's information.
I had worried she'd make me leave home. Instead, she asked who was with me now, what Dad had changed, and whether I felt safe telling him if something else happened.
“I think so,” I said.
On the drive back, Dad didn't try to convince me that I was safe. He asked what would help me feel it.
“I want to know when you're going away,” I said.
“I'll tell you before I agree to any trip.”
“And who will be here.”
“We'll decide that together.”
The answer helped. So did the fact that he'd taken me to Ms. Ellis even though I knew he was ashamed of what she'd heard.
At home, Vanessa's car was in the driveway.
Dad parked behind it. My stomach dropped.
“Stay here,” he said.
Ruth opened the front door before he reached it. Vanessa stood just inside with Tasha, holding two suitcases.
“I came for clothes,” Vanessa said. “Your sister wouldn't let me upstairs.”
“I said she could collect what she needed if one of us was with her,” Ruth replied.
Vanessa saw me through the car window.
“Nia, are you going to hide from me now?”
Dad stepped into her line of sight.
“Don't speak to her like that.”
“She lives here. I lived here too until you threw me out over a list.”
Dad glanced toward the car. I could see he wanted to keep me out of the argument.
“Take what you came for,” he said. “We'll discuss everything else with someone present.”
Tasha went upstairs with Ruth and Vanessa. Dad came back to the car and drove me to Maya's house early. Maya's mom answered the door and told me I could stay for dinner.
I hadn't planned to go there until Friday. I went inside because Dad had asked me what I needed to feel safe, and I didn't want to wait in the car while Vanessa packed.
Maya led me to her room. We were painting a small wooden box when Dad called.
Vanessa had taken her clothes. Ruth was checking that she'd left my things alone.
“I'll pick you up at seven,” he said.
His voice sounded strained, but he didn't ask me to comfort him.
At home, Dad met me at the front door. Ruth stood behind him with the blue notebook.
“She went into your room,” Ruth said. “I followed her. She said she was looking for one of Ava's sweaters.”
I held the notebook. It was intact.
“Did she take anything?”
Dad hesitated.
“Your mother's silver bracelet isn't in its box.”
The bracelet had belonged to my mother. Dad kept it for me after she died, and on my twelfth birthday he said I could wear it on special days. I'd put it back in its little wooden box after the school concert last month.
I ran upstairs.
The box was on my shelf. Inside, the soft cloth was folded where I had left it.
The bracelet was gone.
I looked through my drawers and under the bed. Ruth helped, though we both knew it hadn't fallen out.
Dad stood in the doorway.
“I'm asking Vanessa about it,” he said.
“She's going to say I lost it.”
“She might. That won't stop me asking.”
He called on speaker so I could hear.
Vanessa answered after several rings.
“What now?”
“Nia's bracelet is missing,” Dad said. “Did you move it?”
“Why would I touch her jewelry?”
“You went into her room.”
“To get Ava's sweater.”
“Did you open the wooden box?”
Vanessa was silent for a moment.
“I can't keep track of where Nia puts things.”
Dad glanced at me.
“I'm going to find out what happened,” he said.
“Good luck,” Vanessa replied, and ended the call.
I sat on the bed, holding the empty box.
I wanted my mother. It had been six years, and there were still moments when the wanting hit so hard I couldn't speak.
Dad sat beside me.
“I should have kept it safe,” he said.
“I put it away.”
“You did.”
He stayed until I was ready to come downstairs.
Later, Ava appeared in the kitchen with a small scrap of silver-colored tissue paper.
“I saw Mom wrap something in this,” she said. “At the café. She put it in her purse.”
Dad took a picture of the paper before setting it on the counter.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Ava nodded.
“I didn't know what it was. I should have told you.”
“You're telling me now,” I said.
Dad called Vanessa again. She didn't answer.
Then a message came to his phone.
Stop dragging the children into your accusations. If Nia wants her bracelet, perhaps she should tell me where she hid my money.
Dad showed me the message. He saved it.
May you like
I looked at the empty wooden box in my hands and realized Vanessa wasn't trying to explain anything.
She was trying to make us afraid to ask.
