Chapter 5
Lorraine arrived at Jasmine's house the next afternoon.
She was a warm Black woman in her late fifties with shoulder-length gray-streaked hair.
I had met her only twice.
Both times, Evelyn had interrupted whenever we tried to speak privately.
Now Lorraine stood in the doorway holding a folder.
Her expression was serious.
“Nia.”
I stepped aside.
“Thank you for coming.”
She nodded.
“I'm sorry it took me so long.”
Marcus joined us in the living room.
When he saw his aunt, his expression softened.
“Aunt Lorraine.”
She hugged him.
Then looked at me.
“We need to talk.”
We sat around Jasmine's dining table.
Lorraine placed the folder in front of her.
For several seconds, she stared at it.
Then she began.
“When Marcus was nine, Evelyn became convinced his father was trying to take him away.”
Marcus frowned.
“What?”
I looked at him.
Lorraine continued.
“Your father, Daniel, wanted to separate from Evelyn.”
Marcus went still.
I had always been told Daniel abandoned the family.
He left when Marcus was ten.
Evelyn described him as selfish and irresponsible.
Marcus rarely spoke about him.
“What happened?” Marcus asked.
Lorraine took a breath.
“Your father didn't simply walk away.”
Marcus stared at her.
“He tried to remain involved.”
His face changed.
“Mom said he didn't want me.”
Lorraine's eyes filled.
“That wasn't true.”
The room became silent.
I looked at Marcus.
His hands were trembling.
Lorraine opened the folder.
Inside were old letters.
Court documents.
Photographs.
And copies of correspondence.
“Daniel tried to arrange visits,” she explained.
“Evelyn repeatedly told him Marcus was sick, busy, or unwilling to see him.”
Marcus stared at the papers.
I felt my chest tighten.
Lorraine continued.
“She told Marcus his father didn't care.”
Tears filled Marcus's eyes.
“And she told Daniel that Marcus refused contact.”
I watched my husband.
He looked devastated.
For years, he had believed his father abandoned him.
Now he was discovering that the truth might have been very different.
“Why didn't you tell me?” Marcus whispered.
Lorraine covered her face.
“I tried.”
He stared at her.
“When?”
“When you were sixteen.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't remember.”
Lorraine looked down.
“Evelyn told me to stay away after I challenged her.”
My stomach tightened.
Of course.
The same pattern.
Isolation.
Lies.
Control.
Lorraine continued.
“I should have done more.”
Marcus began crying.
I reached for his hand.
He held it tightly.
For the first time, I understood something important.
My husband wasn't simply afraid of disappointing his mother.
He had grown up believing that losing her approval could mean losing his entire family.
That fear had followed him into adulthood.
And Evelyn had used it.
Lorraine turned toward me.
“Nia, when I heard what happened in the kitchen, I was horrified.”
I nodded.
“She hit me.”
Lorraine's eyes filled.
“I know.”
I looked at her.
“And she threatened our baby.”
Lorraine shook her head.
“I don't know what she intends. But I know she has a history of using fear to control family relationships.”
Marcus wiped his face.
“Where is Dad now?”
Lorraine hesitated.
“He lives in North Carolina.”
My husband stared at her.
“Is he alive?”
The question broke my heart.
Lorraine nodded.
“Yes.”
Marcus covered his mouth.
For years, Evelyn had implied Daniel was dead or unreachable.
Now Marcus was learning that his father had been living only a few hours away.
“Does he know about me?” Marcus whispered.
Lorraine began crying.
“He never stopped asking.”
I squeezed Marcus's hand.
He leaned forward, shaking.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then he whispered, “I want to see him.”
Lorraine nodded.
“I can help you contact him.”
I looked at my husband.
His face was full of grief.
But beneath it, I saw something else.
Hope.
That evening, Marcus called Daniel.
I stayed nearby but gave him privacy.
When the call connected, Marcus's voice broke.
“Dad?”
There was silence.
Then a man's voice answered.
“Marcus?”
I watched my husband cover his face.
“It's me.”
Daniel began crying.
“My boy.”
Marcus sat down.
For nearly an hour, they talked.
Sometimes they cried.
Sometimes they sat in silence.
Daniel explained that he had tried to remain involved after the separation.
He had sent letters.
Called.
Attended court proceedings.
But repeated conflict and misinformation eventually made contact difficult.
He admitted his own mistakes.
He had stopped fighting as hard as he should have.
He had remarried and moved away.
But he had never stopped loving Marcus.
I listened to parts of the conversation.
It was painful.
Complicated.
Real.
And I realized that Evelyn's actions had damaged more than one generation.
After the call, Marcus sat beside me.
His eyes were swollen.
“I thought he didn't want me.”
I held his hand.
“I know.”
He stared at the floor.
“Mom told me he chose another family.”
I took a breath.
“I'm sorry.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Nia, I've spent my whole life believing her.”
I nodded.
He began crying again.
“And I made you do the same thing.”
My chest tightened.
“Yes.”
He looked devastated.
“I don't know how to fix that.”
I took his hand.
“Then start by being honest. And keep choosing what protects our daughter.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
The next day, Patricia reviewed Lorraine's documents.
She explained that the old custody records did not automatically establish every allegation.
But they were useful context for understanding the family's history.
We agreed to avoid making unsupported claims.
Still, the pattern was troubling.
Evelyn had repeatedly tried to control who could see Marcus.
Who could communicate with him.
And what he believed about his father.
Now she was trying to involve herself in our unborn daughter's future.
I felt frightened.
But I also felt more determined than ever.
We weren't going to let history repeat itself.
That afternoon, Marcus received a message from Evelyn.
I saw his expression change.
“What is it?”
He handed me the phone.
The message read:
If you keep choosing Nia, don't expect me to be your mother anymore.
I stared at the words.
Marcus looked exhausted.
Then he did something I hadn't expected.
He typed a reply.
I love you, Mom. But you hurt my wife and threatened my child. I will not accept that. Please contact my attorney about any necessary matters.
He showed me before sending it.
I nodded.
He pressed send.
Then placed the phone face down.
For several seconds, he sat quietly.
Then he whispered, “I feel like I'm losing her.”
I took his hand.
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“But I'm not going to lose you and our daughter because I'm afraid of her.”
My eyes filled.
I leaned against him.
For the first time in weeks, I felt a little of the trust between us returning.
Not fully.
Not instantly.
But enough to believe we might find our way forward.
Then my phone rang.
Dr. Brooks.
I answered.
Her voice was serious.
“Nia, I need you to come in for another evaluation.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
She hesitated.
“Your latest blood pressure readings are higher than I'd like.”
I pressed my hand against my belly.
“And I don't want to take chances this late in your pregnancy.”
Marcus stood immediately.
I looked at him.
Fear returned.
Not fear of Evelyn this time.
Fear that all the stress and chaos surrounding us might be affecting our daughter.
I swallowed.
“Is the baby in danger?”
Dr. Brooks spoke calmly.
“We need to assess you before drawing conclusions. Please come in now.”
I looked at Marcus.
May you like
He reached for my hand.
And together, we left for the hospital.
