Chapter 4
I could barely speak after Nia showed me the backpack.
She had saved food for my next trip while I had been making plans to travel more.
Leah put the backpack on the counter and asked Nia whether she wanted it in her room. Nia nodded. Leah carried it upstairs without looking through anything else.
I followed Nia to the dining room.
“You don’t need to save food here,” I told her.
“I know.”
She said it because I needed to hear it. Her hand still closed around the pocket of her sweatshirt whenever someone walked past the kitchen.
That night, I canceled my next business trip. Then I called my manager and told him I needed to work from home while my family dealt with an urgent matter. I had spent years being the person who could get on a plane with a day’s notice.
I could be home now.
The child protective services worker arrived the next morning. Her name was Ms. Torres. She spoke separately with each child, then with Leah and me. I showed her Ava’s photographs, the lunch records, and the doctor’s follow-up plan.
She asked where Vanessa was staying.
“At our house,” I said. “The children are here with us.”
Ms. Torres visited both homes and told me how to arrange contact while she assessed their safety. Ava and Caleb wanted to see their mother. I wanted them to have a way to speak with her that didn’t frighten Nia.
I was relieved when Ms. Torres said we could plan those conversations with her guidance. I was ashamed that I felt relieved about needing guidance at all.
After she left, I asked Nia if there was anything from home she wanted me to bring.
“My blue sweater. The one Mom gave me.”
I knew the sweater. Her mother, Simone, had knitted it during the winter before she died. Nia had worn it until the cuffs were too short.
“It’s in my closet,” she said. “On the top shelf.”
I went to the house that afternoon. Vanessa’s car was gone, but she had texted that she would be back by five. I took Leah with me.
Nia’s room looked tidy at first. Her books were lined up. Her bed was made. On the closet’s top shelf, I found the blue sweater in a box with Simone’s picture.
Below it sat a folded list.
KITCHEN RULES FOR NIA.
I read the first line twice.
Ask before taking food.
The next lines told her to eat only what Vanessa served, to stay out of the dining room during family meals unless invited, and to tell me she had already eaten if I called at dinner.
Leah read over my shoulder. “Marcus.”
I photographed the list where it lay, then brought it with us.
On Nia’s desk was a notebook. I didn’t open it. I took the sweater, picture, and list and went back downstairs.
Vanessa arrived as we reached the front door.
She saw the box in my arms and stopped.
“You went through her room?”
“Nia asked for her sweater.”
Vanessa noticed the folded list in Leah’s hand.
“Those were house rules,” she said.
“Why did you tell her to lie to me?”
“I didn’t. I told her to stop interrupting your work calls with complaints.”
I remembered the nights Nia said she had already eaten. I had believed her because I wanted our calls to feel easy.
“Did you write the list?” I asked.
“I wrote down what we agreed on.”
“Nia didn’t agree.”
“You weren’t here.”
“I’m here now.”
Vanessa’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at Leah.
“Will you please tell him that Nia and I have never gotten along? He’s acting like this came from nowhere.”
Leah held the list at her side.
“Nia used to run to you when she scraped her knee,” she said. “What happened?”
Vanessa’s face closed. “I’m tired of explaining myself.”
She went inside and shut the door.
Back at Leah’s, Nia took the sweater from me and held it against her chest. She saw the list on the table before I could move it.
“You found that.”
“Yes.”
“I tried to throw it away once. She wrote another one.”
I sat down beside her. “Did I ever see one?”
“No. She put it away when you were home.”
Nia unfolded the sweater. The sleeves were still too short.
“I thought if I followed everything, she might let me sit with them again,” she said.
Ava came into the room carrying crayons. She stopped when she saw Nia crying.
“Can I sit with you?” she asked.
Nia nodded. Ava climbed into the chair beside her, took one sleeve of Simone’s sweater, and held it while Nia held the other.
Caleb appeared at the doorway with a board game tucked under his arm.
“I brought this,” he said. “If you want to play later.”
Nia looked from one child to the other.
May you like
“Later,” she whispered.
It was a small answer. I held onto it all evening.
