Chapter 2
"Then maybe it's the person who forgot whose home this was."
Dad finished his sentence without raising his voice.
Vanessa stared at him.
For a moment, she looked like she didn't understand English anymore.
Then she laughed nervously.
"Marcus, don't be ridiculous."
Dad didn't smile.
"Did you tell my daughter she doesn't belong here?"
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"You're taking her words out of context."
"I heard your words."
"She was being disrespectful."
I flinched.
Dad felt it.
His hand tightened gently around mine.
"What did she do?"
Vanessa pointed at the paper I was holding.
"She keeps forcing this perfect-family nonsense on me. I was trying to teach her boundaries."
Dad looked at my drawing.
"Maya, may I see that?"
I hesitated.
Then I handed it to him.
He studied the picture.
There were three people standing outside our house.
Dad was smiling.
Vanessa was smiling.
And I was standing between them, holding both their hands.
At the bottom, I had written:
MY SAFE PLACE.
Dad read those words twice.
His jaw tightened.
"She drew us together," he said quietly. "And your response was to tell her she doesn't belong?"
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"You're making this dramatic."
"No," Dad answered. "I'm finally seeing something I should have seen sooner."
I didn't understand what he meant.
But Vanessa did.
Her expression hardened.
"Oh, so now I'm the villain?"
Dad looked at her.
"Right now, I'm asking why my ten-year-old daughter is afraid of you."
My stomach dropped.
I hadn't realized he knew.
Vanessa gave another laugh.
"Afraid? Marcus, please. She's manipulating you."
I started shaking.
Dad turned toward me.
"Maya, look at me."
I did.
"Have you been afraid to tell me things?"
I couldn't answer.
The words were trapped somewhere deep inside me.
Vanessa took a step forward.
"Don't encourage this."
Dad raised one hand.
"Vanessa. Stop talking."
The room became very still.
He crouched in front of me.
"Sweetheart, you can tell me anything."
I looked toward Vanessa.
She was watching me with an expression I recognized.
It was the look she gave me whenever she wanted me to remember what would happen later.
Dad followed my eyes.
Then he stood.
"Vanessa, go into the kitchen."
She stared at him.
"Excuse me?"
"I need to speak to my daughter privately."
"This is my house too."
"Then respect what I'm asking."
Vanessa grabbed her phone from the coffee table.
She stormed toward the kitchen, muttering something beneath her breath.
Dad waited until she was out of sight.
Then he sat beside me.
"Maya."
I stared at my hands.
"Has this happened before?"
I nodded.
"How many times?"
I shrugged.
Dad swallowed.
"Did she ever tell you not to tell me?"
Another nod.
He closed his eyes.
For a few seconds, he looked like someone had hurt him physically.
Then he pulled me into his arms.
"I'm sorry."
I began crying again.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
He pulled back.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I made trouble."
His face changed.
"No, baby."
He wiped my cheeks.
"You didn't make trouble. You told the truth."
"But Vanessa says I ruin everything."
Dad became very still.
"She said that?"
I nodded.
"Sometimes she says you would be happier if I wasn't here."
His eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, Maya."
"I tried really hard to be good."
He hugged me so tightly I could hear his heartbeat.
"You are good. You've always been good."
I buried my face against his shirt.
"Are you going to send me away?"
He pulled back immediately.
"Never."
"But she said—"
"Listen to me."
He placed both hands gently against my cheeks.
"This is your home. You are my daughter. Nothing and nobody will ever change that."
I wanted to believe him.
But Vanessa had been telling me something different for so long.
"Even if you get married again?"
His face crumpled.
"Even then."
I cried harder.
Dad held me until my breathing slowed.
Then he asked another question.
"Has Vanessa ever hurt you?"
I shook my head quickly.
Not because everything had been fine.
Because I didn't know what counted as being hurt.
Dad seemed to understand.
"Has she ever kept you from eating? Locked you somewhere? Punished you when I wasn't home?"
I stared at the floor.
He waited.
Finally, I whispered, "Sometimes she sends me to my room without dinner."
His hand stopped moving against my back.
"How often?"
"When she's mad."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"She takes my tablet."
Dad looked toward the kitchen.
I had never seen his expression like that.
He stood slowly.
"Go get your backpack, sweetheart."
I grabbed his hand.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere you can feel safe while I figure this out."
I panicked.
"Are we leaving our house?"
"For tonight."
"But I don't want you to lose your home because of me."
Dad crouched again.
"Baby, a house isn't worth anything if you can't feel safe inside it."
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He kissed my forehead.
"Pack your pajamas and your favorite things."
I hurried upstairs.
My legs felt strange.
Like the floor was moving beneath me.
In my room, I pulled out my small overnight bag.
I packed my pajamas.
My toothbrush.
My mother's old blue scarf.
And the stuffed rabbit Dad had bought me when I was little.
Then I heard Vanessa shouting downstairs.
"You are not seriously choosing her over your marriage!"
Dad answered something I couldn't hear.
Vanessa raised her voice.
"She's turning you against me!"
I stood frozen beside my bed.
Then Dad's voice carried clearly through the hallway.
"Stop talking about my daughter like she's your enemy."
Something crashed.
I jumped.
A moment later, footsteps came upstairs.
Dad appeared in my doorway.
He looked tired.
But when he saw me, his face softened.
"Ready, sweetheart?"
I nodded.
He picked up my bag.
Then he noticed the blue scarf in my hands.
"Your mom's?"
I nodded again.
Dad touched the fabric.
"She would be proud of you."
We walked downstairs together.
Vanessa stood near the front door.
Her eyes were red.
When she saw my bag, she stared at it.
Then she looked at Dad.
"If you walk out with her, Marcus, don't expect me to forgive you."
Dad opened the door.
"I'll survive."
He guided me outside.
The evening air felt cool against my face.
I thought the argument was over.
Then Vanessa called after us.
"You think you know everything?"
Dad stopped.
She stood beneath the porch light, gripping her phone.
"There are things about your precious daughter you don't know."
Dad turned slowly.
May you like
And Vanessa smiled.
It was the same smile she wore whenever she was about to make someone miserable.
