Chapter 3: The Note
I held the note between two fingers.
“What's this?””
Denise didn't answer.
I took one step toward her.
“You wrote this?””
She stared at the paper.
“Marcus, give me that.””
“No.””
“It's private.””
“It's about my daughter.””
She reached for it.
I pulled it away.
“Don't touch me.””
The words came out colder than I intended.
Denise stopped.
Behind her, Tasha stood in the kitchen doorway.
Maya was still on the stairs.
Nobody moved.
I read the note again.
“Don't tell Marcus until the last minute. He'll make a scene.””
I looked at Denise.
“What exactly did you think I was going to do?””
She shook her head.
“You're doing it right now.””
“I asked where my daughter's ticket was.””
“And now you're acting like I've committed some crime.””
“You deliberately removed her from a family vacation.””
“I made a decision.””
“You hid it from me.””
“Because I knew you'd overreact.””
I laughed.
It wasn't funny.
“You're right.””
She frowned.
“I probably would have.””
I walked to the counter and put the note down.
“But not because of the money.””
Denise folded her arms.
“Then what?””
“Because she's my daughter.””
Maya looked down.
I saw her wipe another tear away.
I turned toward her.
“Maya, come here.””
She slowly walked into the kitchen.
I pulled out a chair.
“Sit.””
She sat.
I crouched beside her.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
She shrugged.
“Mom said you were stressed.””
I looked at Denise.
“She said you'd blame me.””
My throat tightened.
“Why would I blame you?””
Maya didn't answer.
I waited.
Finally she whispered,
“Because that's what she told me.””
Denise's expression changed.
“Maya—”
“No,” I said.
“Let her finish.””
Maya stared at her hands.
“She said you were trying to make the family work.””
I swallowed.
“She said Tasha needed you.””
Maya's voice cracked.
“And that I needed to stop making everything about me.””
Tasha started crying.
“Mom…”
Denise snapped.
“You don't understand.””
Tasha looked at her.
“Then explain it.””
Silence.
Tasha wiped her face.
“You made me feel guilty every time I talked to Maya.””
Denise stared at her daughter.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From my stepsister?””
“From drama.””
Tasha shook her head.
“She wasn't the drama.””
I stood.
“Denise, I need the truth.””
“You have the truth.””
“No.””
I pointed toward the note.
“This is a plan.””
She stared at me.
“A plan?””
“You wrote that you didn't want to tell me until the last minute.””
“That doesn't mean anything.””
“It means you knew I wouldn't agree.””
She looked away.
“And you were right.””
I walked to the window.
Outside, our driveway was filled with luggage.
Four suitcases.
Four sets of plans.
Four people who had apparently been preparing to leave without my daughter.
Then I noticed something.
There was a fifth suitcase.
Small.
Gray.
I turned.
“Maya, what's that?””
She looked toward the front door.
“Mine.””
“You packed?””
She nodded.
“I thought maybe Mom would change her mind.””
My heart broke.
She had packed anyway.
She had spent days quietly hoping somebody would remember her.
I walked over and picked up the suitcase.
It was light.
Too light.
I opened it.
Inside were three T-shirts, two pairs of shorts, a swimsuit, and a small paperback book.
No toiletries.
No shoes.
No charger.
Nothing else.
I looked at her.
“You didn't pack enough for two weeks.””
“I know.””
“Why?””
She shrugged.
“Because I wasn't sure I'd be allowed to go.””
I closed the suitcase.
Then I looked at Denise.
“We're not leaving tomorrow.””
Her eyes widened.
“What?””
“We're not going to Hawaii.””
“You can't cancel everything!””
“Watch me.””
She stepped toward me.
“Marcus, the resort will charge us.””
“I don't care.””
“You'll lose thousands.””
“I said I don't care.””
She stared at me.
“You're destroying this family.””
I looked at Maya.
“No.””
Then I looked back at Denise.
“You started destroying it when you decided my daughter didn't belong.””
Denise's face twisted with anger.
“You have no idea what I've had to deal with.””
“Then tell me.””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I waited.
Finally, she said,
“You want to know why I canceled Maya's ticket?””
“Yes.””
Denise looked directly at me.
“Because Maya isn't the innocent little girl you think she is.””
Maya went completely still.
I stepped between them.
“What does that mean?””
Denise reached for her phone.
“Ask her what happened at school three weeks ago.””
Maya's face drained of color.
I looked at my daughter.
“Maya?””
She didn't answer.
Denise smiled bitterly.
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen.
Her expression changed.
She handed me the phone.
May you like
There was one new message.
*“Marcus needs to know what Maya did before you take that flight.””*
