Chapter 2
“Jasmine, listen to me.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Whatever Felicia told you, it isn't true.”
My daughter was crying so hard that I could barely understand her.
“She said you wanted me gone.”
I closed my eyes.
“No, sweetheart.”
“She said after I graduate, I need to stop expecting you to take care of me.”
I stared at Felicia.
She stood motionless near the garage door.
For once, she wasn't arguing.
That told me more than any explanation could.
“Jasmine,” I said carefully, “where are you right now?”
“At Aunt Renee's.”
Relief washed over me.
Renee was Danielle's older sister.
She had been part of Jasmine's life since the day she was born.
“Stay there,” I said. “I'm coming to get you.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Are you really sending me away?”
My throat tightened.
“No, baby. This will always be your home.”
She started crying harder.
“I thought I did something wrong.”
“You didn't.”
I took a breath.
“You haven't done anything wrong.”
When the call ended, I turned toward my wife.
“Explain yourself.”
Felicia looked away.
“She misunderstood.”
I couldn't believe her.
“She misunderstood?”
“Marcus, teenagers are dramatic.”
I stepped closer.
“You told my daughter I didn't want her.”
“I told her she needs to become independent.”
“By lying about me?”
Felicia raised her voice.
“You've spoiled that girl her entire life!”
I stared at her.
“Don't change the subject.”
“She walks around this house like she's better than everyone.”
“Because she studies hard?”
“Because you make her feel like a princess!”
I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat.
“She's my daughter.”
“And I'm your wife!”
Felicia slammed her hand against the hood of my black SUV.
“When do I come first?”
There it was.
The question I should have heard years earlier.
Felicia didn't see Jasmine as a child who needed love.
She saw her as competition.
I lowered my voice.
“Was this ever about the car?”
Felicia looked away.
I waited.
Finally, she muttered, “You spend too much money on her.”
I stared at her.
“You mean the money I earned?”
“We're married. It's our money.”
“The car was purchased with funds I set aside for Jasmine.”
Felicia gave a bitter smile.
“Exactly. Money you could have used for us.”
I shook my head.
“You have your own car. Your own business. Everything you've asked me to help you build.”
“That's different.”
“How?”
She didn't answer.
I looked at my watch.
“I have to get Jasmine.”
I walked toward my SUV.
Felicia followed.
“Marcus, we need to talk.”
“We've been talking.”
“You can't just leave things like this.”
I turned.
“You can pack an overnight bag and stay somewhere else. My attorney can handle the property arrangements.”
She looked furious.
“And what am I supposed to do?”
“Call your brother.”
The words hit her.
Her eyes widened.
I stopped.
“Actually, that's a good idea.”
“Marcus—”
“Call Derrick.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he's busy.”
I stared at her.
“With what?”
She looked toward the floor.
I felt an ugly suspicion forming.
“Felicia, did Derrick take Jasmine's car?”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“Answer me.”
Finally, she whispered, “He helped arrange the sale.”
My stomach sank.
“Where?”
“At a dealership.”
“Which dealership?”
“Marcus, please.”
I took out my phone.
“Tell me now, or I'm calling the police immediately.”
She stared at me.
Then she gave me the name.
Coleman Prestige Motors.
I recognized it.
Derrick had opened the used-car business eight months earlier.
I had refused to invest after discovering he owed money to multiple creditors.
He had been furious.
And now my daughter's car had apparently ended up in his hands.
I took a photograph of the empty parking space.
Then I left.
The drive to Renee's house took twenty minutes.
It felt like two hours.
Every red light made me angrier.
Every memory of Jasmine growing up made my chest ache.
I remembered her first day of kindergarten.
She wore pink sneakers and carried a backpack almost as big as her body.
Danielle had been gone only three months.
Jasmine stood beside the school gate, gripping my hand.
“Daddy, will you come back?”
I knelt in front of her.
“Every single time.”
She looked into my eyes.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I had spent twelve years trying to keep that promise.
Now my own wife had convinced her I was abandoning her.
When I reached Renee's house, Jasmine was sitting on the porch.
She wore jeans and a gray sweatshirt.
Her eyes were swollen.
An overnight bag rested beside her feet.
The sight broke me.
My daughter had packed her belongings.
Because she thought I didn't want her.
I barely stopped the SUV before jumping out.
“Jasmine!”
She stood.
For one second, she hesitated.
Then she ran toward me.
I caught her in my arms.
“Daddy!”
She buried her face against my chest.
“I'm sorry.”
I held her tighter.
“For what, baby?”
“For being expensive.”
My eyes filled.
I couldn't speak.
She continued.
“I know college costs a lot.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“And I know the car was too much.”
“Jasmine, stop.”
I gently lifted her chin.
“You are not a burden.”
Her mouth trembled.
“Felicia said—”
“I don't care what Felicia said.”
I wiped her tears.
“You are my daughter. Taking care of you has never been something I regret.”
She started crying again.
Renee appeared in the doorway.
Her expression was furious.
“Marcus, we need to talk.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
Inside, Renee handed me a glass of water.
Jasmine sat beside me.
I kept one arm around her shoulders.
Renee crossed her arms.
“Tell your father everything.”
Jasmine looked frightened.
“Everything?”
My stomach tightened.
“What else is there?”
She looked down at her hands.
Then she whispered, “Felicia took my college acceptance letter.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She found it in the mail before I did.”
I felt my blood turn cold.
“Which letter?”
“Northwestern.”
I stopped breathing.
Northwestern University.
Jasmine's dream school.
She had applied months earlier.
We were still waiting for a decision.
“Baby,” I whispered, “what happened?”
Jasmine's eyes filled.
“She told me I was rejected.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“She said I wasn't smart enough.”
Renee stepped forward.
“Marcus, that's not all.”
My heart began pounding.
She handed me a printed email.
At the top was Northwestern University's admissions office.
I scanned it.
Then I read it again.
Congratulations, Jasmine.
You have been offered admission.
Below that was a notice about a substantial scholarship package.
I stared at the paper.
My daughter had been accepted.
And someone had hidden it from her.
I looked at Jasmine.
“Where did Renee get this?”
She swallowed.
“I emailed the university myself because something felt wrong.”
I pressed the paper against my chest.
My beautiful, hardworking daughter had spent weeks believing she had failed.
Because Felicia wanted her gone.
Then Renee said something that made the room go silent.
“Marcus, ask Jasmine what happened to her college savings account.”
I slowly turned toward my daughter.
Her face crumpled.
May you like
“Daddy,” she whispered, “Felicia told me there's no money left.”
And suddenly, I realized the missing car might be the smallest thing my wife had stolen.
