Chapter 4
“Denise, stop.”
My voice filled the dining room.
She stared at Tasha.
“You showed him those pictures?”
Tasha began crying.
“Mom, please…”
Denise took a step forward.
I moved between them.
“Do not threaten her.”
Denise's eyes flashed.
“She's my daughter.”
“And she's telling me what happened in this house.”
Denise laughed bitterly.
“Oh, so now you're both against me?”
I took a slow breath.
“This isn't about choosing sides.”
She folded her arms.
“Then what is it about?”
I held up Tasha's phone.
“It's about what you've been making Lily do.”
Denise looked away.
I continued.
“Laundry. Dishes. Cleaning bathrooms.”
“She needs discipline.”
“She's four.”
“You keep saying that!”
“Because you keep acting like it doesn't matter!”
Denise went silent.
I took a breath.
“Why did you tell her I wouldn't rescue her?”
Her face changed.
For a moment, she looked surprised.
Then defensive.
“I was teaching her independence.”
I stared at her.
“By making her afraid to ask for help?”
She laughed nervously.
“You're exaggerating.”
I shook my head.
“I heard the recording.”
Denise's expression hardened.
Then she turned toward Tasha.
“Give me your phone.”
Tasha froze.
I stepped forward.
“No.”
Denise looked at me.
“Marcus, stay out of how I discipline my daughter.”
I held her gaze.
“Tasha is eighteen.”
“So?”
“She can decide what to do with her phone.”
Denise's face flushed.
Then she pointed toward the staircase.
“Tasha, go upstairs.”
Tasha didn't move.
For the first time, she looked at her mother and said quietly, “No.”
The room went silent.
Denise stared at her.
“What?”
Tasha wiped her cheeks.
“I don't want to lie anymore.”
Her voice shook.
But she kept speaking.
“Lily shouldn't have to do my laundry.”
Denise laughed angrily.
“Don't start.”
Tasha looked down.
“I should've stopped it.”
She swallowed.
“And I'm sorry I didn't.”
I felt my chest tighten.
Denise's expression twisted.
“You ungrateful girl.”
Tasha flinched.
I stepped closer.
“Enough.”
Denise stared at me.
I continued.
“I'm making arrangements for Lily's care myself. We need space to address what's happened.”
She laughed.
“You think you can just take over?”
I looked at her.
“I'm her father.”
“And I'm the person who's been raising her while you travel!”
The words hurt.
Because she was right about my absence.
I'd been away too often.
But I wasn't going to let that become an excuse for mistreatment.
I took a slow breath.
“I trusted you to care for her.”
Denise looked away.
“And I was wrong not to check more carefully.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Denise whispered, “You're going to regret turning this family against me.”
I shook my head.
“This family needs honesty.”
She stared at me.
Then walked upstairs.
Her bedroom door slammed.
Tasha began crying.
I sat beside her.
“You okay?”
She nodded weakly.
Then whispered, “I'm scared.”
I looked toward the staircase.
“Of what?”
“That she'll make me leave.”
My heart tightened.
Tasha was legally an adult.
But she still depended on her mother for housing and education.
I understood why Denise's threats frightened her.
I took a breath.
“We'll work out a safe plan.”
She looked at me.
“Even though I'm not your daughter?”
The question broke my heart.
For two years, I'd told Tasha she was part of our family.
I'd attended her graduation ceremony.
Helped with college applications.
Bought her birthday presents.
Yet she still believed my support might disappear the moment she disagreed with her mother.
I gently squeezed her shoulder.
“You matter to me, Tasha.”
She began crying harder.
Then she whispered, “I don't want to go against Mom.”
“I know.”
“But I don't want Lily hurt either.”
I nodded.
“Then let's focus on what's right.”
That night, I slept in the guest room beside Lily's bedroom.
Before turning off the light, I checked on her.
She was curled beneath her blanket.
Her stuffed rabbit rested against her cheek.
I stood beside her bed.
For a long moment, I simply watched her breathe.
Then I whispered, “I'm here now, baby.”
She stirred.
“Daddy?”
I leaned closer.
“Yes?”
“Are the dishes done?”
My heart broke.
I gently touched her hair.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
She sighed.
“Good.”
Then she whispered something I would never forget.
“Can I sleep tomorrow?”
I covered my mouth.
She wasn't asking for toys.
Or candy.
Or a trip to the zoo.
She was asking for rest.
I sat beside her.
“You can sleep as long as you need.”
She smiled faintly.
Then closed her eyes.
I stayed there until she was sleeping peacefully.
The next morning, I called my sister Renee.
She was a pediatric nurse and the person who helped me most after Rachel died.
When I explained what happened, she went silent.
Then she said, “Marcus, I'm coming over.”
I swallowed.
“Renee…”
“No.”
Her voice was firm.
“That baby needs someone she trusts.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
She arrived an hour later.
The moment Lily saw her, she ran across the living room.
“Auntie Renee!”
Renee knelt and opened her arms.
“My sweet girl!”
Lily hugged her tightly.
Then whispered, “Auntie, I'm tired.”
Renee looked at me.
Her expression changed.
She gently lifted Lily.
“Then let's get you comfortable, sweetheart.”
I watched them walk toward the sofa.
For the first time that morning, I felt slightly less alone.
Later, Renee asked me to sit with her privately.
She looked serious.
“Marcus, has Lily been eating and sleeping normally?”
I shook my head.
“I don't know.”
She sighed.
“We need to find out.”
I told her about the dishes.
The laundry.
The restricted dinners.
The videos.
Renee's eyes filled.
Then she said something that made my stomach tighten.
“Marcus, have you checked her preschool attendance?”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Has she been going regularly?”
I stared at her.
“Denise handles drop-off.”
Renee nodded slowly.
“Then call the school.”
I immediately picked up my phone.
Lily attended a private preschool about fifteen minutes from our house.
I called the director, Mrs. Carter.
She sounded surprised to hear from me.
“Mr. Walker, hello.”
I took a breath.
“I need to ask about Lily's attendance.”
There was a pause.
Then she said, “Actually, I've been meaning to speak with you.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Lily has missed quite a few mornings.”
I froze.
“How many?”
Mrs. Carter hesitated.
“Thirteen in the past six weeks.”
I couldn't breathe.
Thirteen mornings.
I stared at Renee.
She was watching me carefully.
I swallowed.
“Did Denise explain?”
The director paused.
“She said Lily had trouble getting ready because she refused to complete her morning responsibilities.”
My entire body went cold.
May you like
Then Mrs. Carter added something even worse.
“Mr. Walker, Lily told one of her teachers she wasn't allowed to come to school until she finished cleaning.”
