Chapter 2
I knelt in front of Lily.
"Sweetheart, what do you mean she makes you stay outside?"
My daughter looked at Natasha.
Her little shoulders tightened.
"Don't be afraid to tell me."
She swallowed.
"Sometimes I have to wait on the porch."
My stomach twisted.
"Why?"
"Because she says the house needs to be quiet when her family visits."
Behind me, Natasha gave an angry laugh.
"Oh, please."
I turned.
"Be quiet."
Her eyes widened.
"Marcus!"
"I am speaking to my daughter."
The room fell silent.
I looked at Lily again.
"How often?"
She hesitated.
I gently held her hands.
"Baby, you are not in trouble."
Her lips trembled.
"Almost every Friday."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Friday.
The day I usually worked late.
For the past six months, my company had been building a medical center across town.
Fridays were inspection days.
Sometimes I didn't return until nine.
And every Friday, Natasha told me Lily had eaten early and gone to bed.
I had believed her.
Every single time.
"How long has this been happening?"
Lily began crying.
"Since summer."
I looked toward Natasha.
Six months.
My daughter had been pushed out of her own home for six months.
Natasha stepped closer.
"Marcus, she's exaggerating."
Lily flinched.
I saw it.
That tiny movement changed everything.
"Stay away from her."
Natasha stared.
"Are you threatening me?"
"No."
My voice was quiet.
"I'm protecting my child."
Walter slammed his napkin onto the table.
"This is ridiculous. Natasha has done nothing but try to raise that girl properly."
I turned toward him.
"Then why is Lily afraid of her?"
He looked away.
Patricia suddenly spoke.
"Marcus, perhaps everyone should calm down."
I stared at her.
"Did you know?"
She blinked.
"Know what?"
"That Lily was being put outside."
Patricia looked toward Natasha.
That glance told me enough.
"You knew."
She shook her head.
"We thought it was discipline."
I felt sick.
"Discipline?"
Patricia lowered her eyes.
"Natasha said Lily was being difficult."
I looked at my daughter.
She was standing beside the doorway, clutching her unfinished sandwich.
Ten years old.
Small.
Exhausted.
Trying to disappear.
I felt something break inside me.
I had promised her mother I would protect her.
Now I was discovering how badly I'd failed.
I turned toward Natasha.
"Get your parents out of here."
She crossed her arms.
"I'm not leaving my own home."
I took a breath.
"Then they leave first. And you and I will discuss where you stay tonight."
Walter stepped forward.
"You cannot throw elderly people into the street."
I looked toward the windows.
Their expensive SUV was parked directly outside.
"You have a car. You have your own house. Go home."
Patricia picked up her purse.
"Come on, Walter."
He looked offended.
But she was already moving.
As they reached the door, Lily stepped behind me.
Patricia stopped.
For one moment, she seemed ready to say something.
Then she looked at the sandwich.
Her face changed.
"I'm sorry, Lily."
My daughter didn't answer.
Patricia lowered her head and walked away.
Walter followed.
The front door closed.
And the house became painfully quiet.
Natasha stood near the dining table.
Her arms were folded.
Her eyes burned with anger.
"Are you happy now?"
I stared at her.
"Happy?"
"You humiliated my parents."
I looked toward Lily.
Then back at my wife.
"My daughter was outside in the cold."
Natasha rolled her eyes.
"She wasn't freezing to death."
The words struck me harder than I expected.
I took one step backward.
For months, I had wondered why Lily had become quiet.
Why she stopped asking friends to visit.
Why she started getting stomachaches on Fridays.
Why she sometimes cried when I left for work.
I thought she missed her mother.
I thought she was struggling with growing up.
I even asked Natasha to spend more time with her.
Now I realized I had been asking the person hurting Lily to comfort her.
I felt physically sick.
"Daddy?"
I turned immediately.
Lily was looking at the dinner table.
"Can I have some chicken?"
My throat tightened.
"Of course, sweetheart."
Natasha scoffed.
"After all that drama, you're rewarding her?"
I stared at her.
"She's hungry."
"She needs boundaries."
I walked toward the table and filled a plate.
Chicken.
Potatoes.
Vegetables.
A piece of bread.
Then I pulled out a chair for Lily.
She hesitated.
"Can I sit here?"
My heart broke.
"Yes, princess."
She slowly sat down.
I placed the plate in front of her.
"Eat as much as you need."
She took one bite.
Then another.
Then she began crying.
I knelt beside her.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"Baby."
Her voice cracked.
"I forgot what it felt like to eat dinner with you."
I closed my eyes.
I had missed so much.
Natasha turned toward the stairs.
"I'm going to bed."
I stood.
"No, you're not."
She stopped.
"What?"
"We need to arrange for you to stay somewhere else tonight."
She laughed bitterly.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
She stared at me.
Then grabbed her phone.
"Fine. I'll call my sister."
I nodded.
"Do that."
As she walked upstairs, Lily watched her disappear.
Then my daughter whispered something.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Please don't let her come back tomorrow."
I sat beside her.
"Why?"
She looked down at her plate.
"Because tomorrow is Saturday."
I frowned.
"What happens on Saturday?"
Her small hands began shaking.
"That's when she takes me somewhere."
My heart stopped.
"Where does she take you?"
May you like
Lily looked toward the staircase.
Then whispered, "She told me never to tell you."
