SHE MADE HIS DAUGHTER CLEAN WHILE HER KIDS RELAXED

Vanessa wanted to come back.

Dad told me after the children were asleep. He had received a message from her asking whether they could meet and talk about living together again.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I said I would meet her with a counselor. I didn't invite her home.”

I twisted the bracelet around my wrist.

“If she promises to be nice, are you going to believe her?”

“No,” he said. “A promise won't be enough. And you won't have to live with her again because I want things to feel easier.”

It was the answer I'd hoped for. I still needed to see him keep it.

The counselor's office offered Dad and Vanessa a meeting the following week. He went alone. Ruth picked us up from school.

At dinner, Dad told us only what affected us. Vanessa had apologized for giving me too much housework. She said she thought I needed structure. She had agreed not to come to the house without arranging it first.

“She didn't say anything about taking my bracelet?” I asked.

“She said she was angry and shouldn't have touched it.”

Caleb stared at his plate.

“Did she say we could see her this weekend?”

“Yes. Tasha can help arrange it.”

I could tell he wanted Dad and Vanessa to be together again. I didn't blame him for wanting his mother at the breakfast table.

Later, Caleb came to my room.

“Mom says she wants to apologize to you herself,” he said.

“Did she ask you to tell me?”

He nodded.

I set my book down.

“I'm not ready to see her.”

“Okay.”

He stayed by the door.

“She said if you forgive her, Dad might let her come home.”

My chest tightened. Vanessa had given him something to carry that should never have been his.

“Caleb, I can't make that decision for Dad.”

“Mom thinks you can.”

“I don't want you stuck in the middle.”

He looked miserable.

“I'm already there.”

I asked if he'd tell Dad what Vanessa had said. He shook his head. He was afraid she'd be angry when he saw her again.

“Will you come with me while I tell him?” I asked.

He agreed.

Dad listened, then called Tasha. He made it clear that Caleb and Ava needed visits where nobody asked them to carry messages. Tasha said she would speak to Vanessa before the weekend.

After the call, Dad turned to Caleb.

“You don't have to earn time with your mom by getting anything from Nia,” he said.

Caleb's shoulders relaxed a little.

“I didn't want to ask her.”

“I know.”

The weekend visit went ahead. Caleb came back happier. Ava said they'd baked cookies and played a game. Neither had been asked about me.

I was glad. It was strange to be glad about a visit I didn't want to attend.

At school, Ms. Ellis checked in every few days. She asked how my hands were healing and whether I had time to do my homework. She also asked whether I wanted to join the art club again.

I did.

The first day back, Maya slid a seat over for me without making a big speech. We worked on posters for the school fair. When I reached for a paintbrush, I noticed the small cracks on my fingers had closed.

That afternoon, Dad arrived early to pick me up. I saw him waiting by the front doors instead of calling to say he was running late.

“I want to show you something,” he said.

At home, the refrigerator held three chore charts. Each had a few jobs suited to our ages. Dad's chart was the longest.

Caleb read his and made a face at “clean up your own snacks.”

Ava laughed at him.

Mine said: make bed, put away my laundry, and help clear dinner dishes on Tuesday.

“Is this real?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What about when you're away?”

“We'll use the same charts. Ruth will stay if I have a trip, and you'll know ahead of time.”

I studied Dad's list. Cook dinner appeared on it four times.

“You can't cook four dinners,” I said.

“I can learn four.”

He burned the first one. We ate sandwiches while he looked up a new recipe.

On Monday, Dad met Ms. Ellis with me to review how things were going. He told her about Vanessa trying to use Caleb to send a message. Ms. Ellis offered the younger two a chance to talk with the counselor at their school too.

They accepted. Ava liked having an adult who could listen without telling her to choose a side.

That night, Vanessa sent Dad a long email. He read it before telling me she had asked again to speak directly to me.

“I told her no,” he said. “If you ever want to, we can plan it. You don't owe her a conversation.”

I felt relief so sudden it made my eyes sting.

Then he showed me the last line because he thought I should know.

She wrote that I had turned the children against her.

I handed the phone back.

“I don't want Caleb and Ava against her,” I said. “I just want her to stop using them.”