Chapter 2
"What do you mean this wasn't the first time?"
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
Lily stared at the floor.
Her fingers tightened around mine.
Behind us, Natasha made a sharp sound.
"Marcus, don't encourage this."
I slowly turned toward her.
"What did you just say?"
She folded her arms.
"Lily has a very active imagination."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"She's standing here crying."
"Because you're making a scene!"
I looked at my daughter.
She flinched at Natasha's raised voice.
That tiny movement told me everything.
I crouched in front of her.
"Sweetheart, look at me."
She hesitated.
Then lifted her eyes.
"You can tell me anything."
Her lower lip trembled.
"Even if Natasha gets mad?"
My chest tightened.
"Especially then."
She glanced toward the dining room.
Then whispered, "Sometimes she makes me eat in the laundry room."
I stopped breathing.
"What?"
Lily started crying harder.
"She says the dining room is for people who know how to behave."
I felt sick.
I looked toward Natasha.
She immediately shook her head.
"That is completely exaggerated."
I stood.
"Did you make my daughter eat in the laundry room?"
Natasha sighed.
"Once or twice, when she was being difficult."
I stared at her.
"Being difficult?"
"Marcus, children need consequences."
I looked at the expensive dinner spread across the table.
Then at the dry bread.
"Consequences for what?"
Natasha opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I turned toward Lily.
"Baby, what happened?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"Sometimes I ask for more food."
My heart broke.
"And?"
"Natasha says I should be grateful for what I get."
I closed my eyes.
My little girl had been asking for food.
And someone had punished her for it.
I took a slow breath.
"How often does this happen?"
Lily looked frightened.
"I don't know."
Natasha stepped forward.
"Marcus, you're interrogating a child."
I turned sharply.
"No. I'm trying to understand what you've been doing to her."
Patricia suddenly spoke.
"Perhaps Lily has misunderstood the house rules."
I stared at my mother-in-law.
"House rules?"
She straightened.
"Children shouldn't interrupt adult meals."
I looked at her.
"She's nine."
Patricia shrugged.
"Exactly. Old enough to learn manners."
My chest tightened.
"And you think making her sit outside with bread teaches manners?"
Harold cleared his throat.
"Marcus, calm down."
I turned toward him.
"Would you have done this to Natasha when she was nine?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"That's different."
"How?"
He didn't answer.
I shook my head.
"Of course."
Then I looked toward the front door.
"All three of you. Leave."
Natasha began crying.
"You're throwing your wife out over one meal?"
I stared at her.
"No. I'm removing someone who has been mistreating my child."
She looked furious.
"You're going to regret this."
I stepped closer.
"Maybe. But Lily won't regret being protected."
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Harold stood.
He took Patricia's arm.
"Come on."
Patricia looked offended.
But she followed him.
Natasha remained standing beside the table.
Her eyes were filled with anger.
"Marcus, this is my house too."
I nodded.
"We'll address that legally."
She stared at me.
"You can't just throw me out."
I took a breath.
"I am asking you to stay elsewhere tonight. If you refuse, we'll involve the appropriate authorities and follow the legal process."
Her expression changed.
She looked toward her parents.
Then grabbed her handbag.
As she passed Lily, she stopped.
My daughter immediately stepped behind me.
Natasha looked down at her.
"I hope you're happy."
I felt something inside me snap.
"Do not speak to her."
Natasha looked up.
Her face was cold.
"She knows exactly what she's doing."
I stepped between them.
"Leave."
She walked away.
The front door slammed.
The house became silent.
I stood in the dining room, breathing hard.
Then I turned toward Lily.
She was staring at the table.
At the roast chicken.
The potatoes.
The fresh rolls.
All the food she'd been told she couldn't have.
I crouched.
"Baby, are you hungry?"
She nodded slowly.
I felt tears rising.
"Come sit."
She hesitated.
"At the table?"
My heart broke.
"Of course."
She looked toward the doorway.
"Natasha said—"
"Natasha isn't here."
I pulled out a chair.
"This is your home, Lily."
She slowly sat down.
I brought her a plate.
Chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
A fresh dinner roll.
I placed it in front of her.
She stared.
Then looked up.
"Can I really eat this?"
I swallowed.
"Yes, sweetheart."
She picked up her fork.
But before taking a bite, she looked at me again.
"Are you sure?"
I felt tears slip down my cheeks.
"I'm sure."
She started eating.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
I sat beside her.
For several minutes, I watched my daughter eat.
And I realized how much I'd taken for granted.
I'd assumed she was being cared for.
I'd assumed that because the house was beautiful, her life inside it was comfortable.
I'd assumed that the woman I married would treat my child with love.
I had been wrong.
After dinner, Lily helped me carry the dishes into the kitchen.
I told her she didn't have to.
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
I smiled sadly.
"Really."
She hesitated.
Then whispered, "Natasha says if I don't help, I don't deserve dessert."
My chest tightened.
I set down the plates.
"Lily, chores are part of learning responsibility. But food isn't something you have to earn."
She looked confused.
I crouched.
"You deserve to eat because you're a person. Not because you finished a job."
Her eyes filled.
"Even when I make mistakes?"
I nodded.
"Even then."
She hugged me.
I held her tightly.
And for the first time that evening, she stopped trembling.
Later, I helped her get ready for bed.
She brushed her teeth.
Changed into pajamas.
And climbed beneath her pink blanket.
I sat beside her.
"Want me to read?"
She nodded.
I picked up her favorite book.
But before I opened it, she touched my arm.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Can I tell you another secret?"
My stomach tightened.
"Of course."
She looked toward the bedroom door.
Then whispered, "Natasha has a list."
I frowned.
"What list?"
Lily swallowed.
"A list of things I'm not allowed to do."
I nodded carefully.
"What kind of things?"
Her eyes filled.
"Eat with guests. Sit on the living room sofa. Use the good bathroom."
I felt cold.
She continued.
"And sometimes I'm not allowed to call you."
I stopped breathing.
"Why?"
Lily looked down.
"Because she says you're too busy for me."
My chest tightened.
May you like
Then she whispered something that made the room spin.
"Daddy, she told me you agreed to all the rules."
