Chapter 2: The Secret in the White Envelope
My father didn't shout.
That was what frightened Brittany most.
He simply held out his hand and waited for me to cross the threshold.
I ran to him.
The second his arms wrapped around me, I buried my face in his jacket. It smelled like leather, peppermint gum, and the faint trace of his aftershave.
The familiar scent broke whatever strength I'd been trying to hold together.
"Dad," I sobbed.
He pressed one hand against the back of my head.
"I'm here, sweetheart.""
"She said I'm not her daughter.""
His arms tightened.
"I heard.""
"She said I had to leave.""
"I heard that, too.""
"Did I do something bad?""
Dad pulled away just enough to look at me.
His eyes were wet.
"No, Jasmine. You didn't.""
Behind him, Brittany gave a frustrated sigh.
"Nathan, please. You're making this much worse than it needs to be.""
He didn't look at her.
He examined my hand instead, turning it gently beneath the afternoon light.
"Does it hurt?""
"A little.""
"Did she hit you?""
I glanced toward the doorway.
Brittany's expression sharpened.
"Don't you dare exaggerate what happened," she snapped.
"I moved her hand away from the gifts. That's all.""
Dad finally turned.
"With enough force to leave a mark?""
"She's sensitive.""
"She's ten.""
"And she needs to learn boundaries.""
Dad stared at her for several seconds.
Then he said, "You can explain your boundaries to me inside.""
He took my hand and led me into the house.
The living room looked almost festive. Bright ribbons covered the coffee table. Madison's dollhouse sat open on the rug. Tyler had placed his new headset beside a gaming console.
Brittany's shopping bags were everywhere.
Dad stopped in the middle of the room.
"Who are all these gifts for?""
Brittany folded her arms.
"My children.""
"And Jasmine?""
"She wasn't part of the shopping trip.""
"Why not?""
"Because I didn't buy anything for her.""
The bluntness of the answer made my father blink.
"You went shopping with money from our household account.""
"Yes.""
"You bought gifts for your children.""
"Yes.""
"And deliberately bought nothing for my daughter.""
Brittany rolled her eyes.
"Not every purchase has to be about Jasmine.""
Dad looked at the bags again.
"How much did you spend?""
"That's irrelevant.""
"How much, Brittany?""
She glanced at Tyler, then at Madison.
"About six thousand dollars.""
My father slowly turned back to her.
"Six thousand?""
"It was a special shopping day.""
"For what occasion?""
Brittany hesitated.
Then she lifted her chin.
"For being a good mother.""
I felt Dad's hand tighten around mine.
He looked at the gaming headset, the designer sneakers, the dollhouse, and the pile of unopened packages.
Finally, he asked, "And what exactly did Jasmine do to deserve being dragged out of her own house?""
"She tried to take Madison's dollhouse.""
"I didn't!"" I cried.
Brittany whipped around.
"Nobody asked you!""
Dad stepped between us.
"Don't speak to her like that.""
For a moment, Brittany looked as if she'd never heard those words from him before.
Perhaps she hadn't.
During the first year of their marriage, Dad had often told me to be patient with Brittany. He'd said blending families took time. He'd explained that she was still adjusting to having another child in the house.
Whenever she made a cutting remark, he'd ask me to ignore it.
Whenever I complained, he'd remind me that she was trying her best.
I'd believed him.
I wanted so badly to believe him.
But standing beside him now, I wondered how many times I'd been expected to forgive something he hadn't seen.
Dad turned to Tyler and Madison.
"Did Jasmine try to take anything?""
Madison clutched her dollhouse.
"She looked at the silver box.""
"Did she touch it?""
Madison shook her head.
"Not really.""
Brittany shot her daughter a warning look.
Madison shrank into the couch.
Tyler cleared his throat.
"She just asked if there was something for her.""
Brittany's mouth fell open.
"Tyler!""
"What?"" he muttered.
"That's what happened.""
Dad nodded slowly.
Then he looked at Brittany.
"You lied to me about my daughter.""
"I didn't lie. I simplified the situation.""
"You told me she tried to steal a toy.""
"I was upset!""
"You grabbed her and pushed her outside.""
"I was disciplining her!""
"By throwing her out of her home?""
Brittany's face reddened.
"You always do this!""
"Do what?""
"You always choose her!""
The words echoed across the living room.
I looked at Dad.
He looked at Brittany.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Brittany laughed bitterly.
"You think you're some perfect father because you buy her books and take her to school events? You have no idea what it's like living with a child who isn't yours.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Then why did you marry a man who has a daughter?""
"Because I loved you!""
"Then love her, too.""
"I can't!""
The answer came so quickly that even Brittany seemed startled by it.
Madison looked down.
Tyler stared at the floor.
I felt something inside me collapse.
Dad closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he looked older than he had that morning.
"Go upstairs," he told me gently.
"Get your schoolbag and a sweater.""
My stomach dropped.
"W-Why?""
"I'm taking you somewhere for a little while.""
"Are you sending me away?""
"No."" He crouched in front of me.
"Listen to me carefully. You are not being punished. You're going with me because I need to make sure you're safe.""
I glanced toward Brittany.
She had gone pale.
"Nathan, don't be ridiculous. She's fine.""
Dad stood.
"Pack a few things, Jasmine.""
I obeyed, climbing the stairs with my heart pounding.
My bedroom was at the end of the hallway, beside the small guest room that Brittany had turned into her dressing room.
My room was simple. White curtains. A narrow bed.
A bookshelf full of adventure stories. On the wall above my desk hung a photograph of my mother holding me as a baby.
Mom had died when I was five.
I remembered her in fragments: the softness of her scarves, the sound of her singing while she cooked, the way she warmed my socks on the radiator during winter.
I also remembered the hospital room.
Dad had held me while a doctor explained that Mom wasn't coming home.
For months afterward, Dad and I had eaten dinner at the kitchen island because neither of us could bear to sit at the dining table without her.
Then Brittany came along.
She brought flowers into the house, painted the kitchen cabinets, and made Dad laugh again.
I thought she was a gift.
Now I wondered whether I'd mistaken a new beginning for a replacement.
I pulled my backpack from the closet and packed two shirts, pajamas, my toothbrush, and my favorite stuffed rabbit.
Then I stopped at the photograph of Mom.
I lifted it from the wall.
Behind the frame was a folded piece of paper I had never noticed before.
It wasn't a letter. It looked like part of a document, with a blue seal in one corner and several lines of printed text.
At the bottom was my mother's signature.
And beside it was my name.
I was still trying to read it when Dad appeared in the doorway.
"Jasmine? Are you ready?""
I held up the paper.
"Dad, what is this?""
He took one look at it and went completely still.
For the first time in my life, I saw fear cross my father's face.
"Where did you find that?""
"Behind Mom's picture.""
He gently took the paper from me, reading it once, then again.
"What does it mean?"" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he slipped the document into his jacket pocket and took a slow breath.
"Your mother wanted me to give you something when you were older.""
"What?""
He looked at me.
"Security. A future. The things she worried she wouldn't be here to provide.""
I frowned.
"But you provide those things.""
"Yes, sweetheart. I do.""
"Then why are you scared?""
His jaw tightened.
He knelt in front of me.
"Because I think someone may have been taking something that belongs to you.""
I stared at him.
"Who?""
Dad glanced toward the hallway.
Downstairs, Brittany's voice rose sharply.
"Nathan! We need to talk about what you're doing!""
Dad stood.
"Stay here for a moment.""
He walked away, leaving my bedroom door open.
I heard him descend the stairs.
Then I heard Brittany speak in a voice I'd never heard before—low, furious, and desperate.
"You cannot take her away tonight. If she starts asking questions about the money, everything we've built will fall apart.""
There was a long silence.
Then my father asked, "What money?""
I moved toward the doorway, my heart hammering.
May you like
Brittany answered with a single sentence.
"The money from her mother's trust.""
