Chapter 1: The Accusation
“Please,” I said, looking directly at her.
“Tell the truth.””
Maya's shoulders shook.
Claire stepped between us.
“She doesn't owe you anything.””
“She does if you're accusing me of something I didn't do.””
Claire's phone was still raised.
“I told you to leave.””
“And I told you I didn't touch her.””
“You expect me to believe you over my daughter?””
I looked at Maya again.
She finally lifted her eyes.
For half a second, something flashed across her face.
Fear.
Not fear of me.
Something else.
Then it disappeared.
“I've got nowhere to go,” I said.
“That isn't my problem.””
Claire grabbed the duffel bag from the patio and threw it toward the gate.
It landed upside down.
A pair of jeans slid out.
My old gray hoodie followed.
Then my laptop charger.
I crouched down and started gathering everything.
My hands were shaking so badly that I dropped the charger twice.
Behind me, Claire said, “Your father will deal with you when he gets home.””
I froze.
“You haven't told Dad?””
“He'll know soon enough.””
“Then wait for him.””
“No.””
She pointed at the street.
“Get out.””
I stood.
“Claire, if you call the police, they're going to ask questions.””
“Good.””
“They'll ask Maya questions too.””
Maya's face went white.
Claire noticed.
“She's terrified because of you.””
“No,” I said quietly.
“She's terrified because you're not letting her speak.””
Maya suddenly whispered, “Mom…”
Claire spun around.
“What?””
“I…”
Maya swallowed.
“I don't feel good.””
Claire's expression softened for the first time.
“Go upstairs.””
“But—”
“Go upstairs, Maya.””
Maya looked at me.
I could see tears gathering again.
“Jordan…”
Claire immediately stepped in front of her.
“Don't talk to him.””
Maya flinched.
That was when I knew something was wrong.
Something far bigger than the accusation.
I zipped the duffel bag and picked it up.
“I'm going to call Dad myself.””
Claire laughed without humor.
“You don't get to manipulate him.””
“I'm not manipulating anyone.””
I pulled my phone from my pocket.
Claire reached out and slapped it from my hand.
It hit the concrete.
The screen cracked.
For a second, nobody moved.
I stared at the phone.
Then at Claire.
“You just broke my phone.””
“You're lucky that's all I broke.””
Maya came back down two steps.
“Mom, stop.””
Claire looked up at her.
“Inside.””
“Mom—”
“INSIDE.””
Maya disappeared upstairs.
I bent down and picked up my phone.
The screen still lit up, but a spiderweb of cracks ran across it.
My father's name was saved as *Dad ❤️*.
I pressed call.
Claire snatched the phone from my hand.
“No.””
“Give it back.””
“You're not calling him.””
“Why?””
She didn't answer.
That silence told me more than any explanation could have.
Claire had spent the last ten minutes screaming that I was dangerous.
Yet she was terrified of my father hearing the story from me.
“Give me my phone.””
“No.””
I stepped toward her.
She stepped backward.
Then a bedroom door slammed upstairs.
Maya.
I looked toward the second floor.
Claire's face changed.
“Stay here,” she ordered.
I didn't move.
She hurried inside.
I followed.
“Jordan!””
“What is going on?””
She grabbed the railing.
“Leave this house.””
“This is my home too.””
“Not anymore.””
I stared at her.
She had said it so easily.
As if nineteen years of my life could be erased by one sentence.
My father had bought this house when I was eleven.
I remembered helping him paint the living room.
I remembered sleeping on the floor beside him when my bedroom ceiling leaked during a storm.
I remembered the first Christmas Claire spent here.
I remembered Maya sitting beside me on the stairs, asking if she could call me her brother.
Now Claire was telling me I no longer belonged.
I picked up my duffel bag.
“Fine.””
I walked toward the front door.
Then Maya screamed.
“Jordan!””
I stopped.
Claire turned pale.
Maya was standing halfway down the stairs.
She was crying openly now.
“Don't go.””
Claire stared at her.
“Maya, go upstairs.””
“No.””
“What did you just say?””
Maya gripped the banister.
“I said don't let him go.””
I slowly turned around.
Claire's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Maya.””
My stepsister looked at me.
Her lips trembled.
“I need to tell him something.””
Claire moved toward the stairs.
“No, you don't.””
“Yes.””
“You're upset.””
“I know what I said.””
Claire stopped.
Maya wiped her cheeks.
“I know exactly what I told you.””
My heart hammered against my ribs.
Claire looked at me.
Then at Maya.
“You're confused.””
“No, Mom.””
Maya shook her head.
“I wasn't confused.””
The room went silent.
Claire's fingers tightened around the railing.
I couldn't breathe.
“Maya,” I said carefully, “what did you tell her?””
Maya opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then she whispered,
“I lied.””
My duffel bag slipped from my hand.
And Claire's phone, still lying on the counter, suddenly began ringing.
May you like
The caller ID showed one name.
*Marcus Williams.*
