Chapter 2: The Woman Who Knew
Patricia had been my wife's closest confidante for as long as I had known Vanessa.
She was the sort of woman who brought homemade casseroles to neighbors, remembered everyone's birthday, and never missed an opportunity to tell me how lucky her daughter was to have a husband who worked so hard.
She had also been the person who encouraged me to take my first major business trip after Nia was born.
“Vanessa needs a little time to settle into motherhood,” she had told me.
“You can't carry the whole world on your shoulders, Marcus.””
I had believed her.
Now she stood in my dining room, staring at a note written in her daughter's handwriting.
“Patricia,” I said, “what documents?””
She bent quickly to retrieve the folder.
“Nothing important.””
Vanessa moved toward her.
“Mom, give me that.””
Patricia clutched the folder against her chest.
For a moment, the two women stared at each other.
Then Patricia glanced at Nia.
Something in her expression broke.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispered.
Nia immediately stepped behind me.
That frightened me more than anything else.
My daughter wasn't running toward the person who had just shown her kindness.
She was hiding from everyone.
I extended my hand toward Patricia.
“Please.””
She hesitated before handing me the folder.
Vanessa reached for it.
I stepped away.
“Don't.””
“Marcus, you have no right to go through my private documents.””
“Then you won't mind explaining why your mother brought them to my house.””
“They concern a family matter.””
“I'm your husband. Those are my children. This is my house. What family matter could possibly exclude me?””
Vanessa looked at her mother.
Patricia lowered her eyes.
That was when I realized this wasn't the first time they had stood on opposite sides of a secret.
I opened the folder.
The first page contained a school form.
The second was a printed email.
The third was a handwritten list of dates.
At the top of the list, Patricia had written several months and years.
Beside each date were short notes.
Marcus out of town.
Nia stayed home.
Vanessa said she was handling it.
Caleb upset.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
“What's this?””
Patricia took a shaky breath.
“Marcus, I think you should sit down.””
“I'm standing just fine.””
She looked toward Vanessa.
“Tell him.””
Vanessa's face turned red.
“Don't you dare.””
“Tell me what?”” I demanded.
Patricia's eyes filled with tears.
“Your wife has been telling people that Nia is a difficult child. That she lies, steals, and deliberately causes trouble whenever you're away.””
I glanced at Nia.
She was staring at the floor.
“Has she been telling the school that?””
Patricia nodded.
“Not just the school.””
Vanessa let out an angry laugh.
“Mother, you're making this sound criminal. I was trying to get help for a child who has serious behavioral issues.””
“Then why didn't you tell me?”” I asked.
“I tried.””
“When?””
“Every time you called, you were busy. You asked how the children were, and I told you they were fine.””
“You told me Nia was fine.””
“She was fine!””
Nia flinched.
Patricia closed her eyes.
“No, Vanessa. She wasn't.””
My wife spun toward her mother.
“You promised you wouldn't interfere!””
“I promised to give you a chance to fix this.””
“And I did!””
“You made her eat alone on Thanksgiving.””
The words landed like a slap.
I stared at Patricia.
“What?””
She pressed a hand against her mouth.
“Last Thanksgiving, I came over early to help prepare dinner. I found Nia sitting on the laundry room floor with a paper plate.””
Vanessa shook her head furiously.
“She was having a tantrum.””
“She was crying.””
“She refused to apologize.””
“For what?”” I asked.
Vanessa turned to me.
“She spilled gravy on the tablecloth.””
I stared at her.
“You isolated a nine-year-old because she spilled gravy?””
“It was an expensive tablecloth!””
“And Caleb? Ava? They were allowed to eat at the table?””
“They hadn't done anything wrong.””
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I looked at my wife, trying to reconcile the woman standing before me with the person who had held my hand at our wedding.
“Did you feed her afterward?””
Vanessa's chin lifted.
“Of course I did.””
“When?””
“When she was ready to behave.””
I felt sick.
Patricia wiped her eyes.
“That isn't even the worst part.””
Vanessa lunged toward the folder.
I moved it behind my back.
“Sit down,” I said.
“No.””
“Then leave the room.””
“You cannot order me around in my own home!””
“It's our home, Vanessa. And right now, I am asking you to stop shouting while our children are standing here.””
She looked at Caleb.
“Go upstairs.””
Caleb didn't move.
“Caleb, I said go upstairs!””
“No,” he whispered.
Vanessa's face changed.
My son was a brave boy in many ways. He could climb the tallest tree in our yard and ride his bicycle down the steepest hill in the neighborhood.
But he had never defied his mother like this.
He looked at me.
“I don't want Nia to be alone with her.””
The words nearly brought me to my knees.
I put my arm around him.
“You won't have to be.””
Vanessa threw her hands into the air.
“This is ridiculous! Marcus, you're letting the children manipulate you. Ava takes pictures, Caleb invents stories, and Nia cries whenever she doesn't get her way. Can't you see what's happening?””
I pulled the handwritten list from the folder.
“Then explain this.””
She looked at the dates.
Her eyes flicked toward Patricia.
“Those are my mother's notes. They don't prove anything.””
Patricia spoke quietly.
“I started writing them down because you kept telling me I was imagining things.””
“You're senile.””
“Vanessa.””
“No, seriously. You forget conversations. You confuse dates. You walk into rooms and don't remember why you're there.””
Patricia's face went white.
I stepped between them.
“Apologize to your mother.””
Vanessa laughed.
“You're joking.””
“Now.””
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she leaned toward Patricia.
“I'm sorry you're too weak to mind your own business.””
“Enough!”” I shouted.
The sound echoed through the house.
Nia began sobbing.
I immediately crouched beside her.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to scare you.””
She shook her head, but she couldn't stop crying.
I held her gently.
After a few seconds, she whispered something against my shoulder.
“Dad, can I tell you something without Mom getting mad?””
I looked at Vanessa.
Then I looked at my daughter.
“Yes.””
“Even if it's something bad?””
“Yes.””
“Even if you don't believe me?””
My throat tightened.
“I will listen to you. I promise.””
Nia pulled away and wiped her cheeks.
“Mom said you weren't my real dad.””
The room went silent.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What?””
“She said you only adopted me because you wanted to make her happy. She said when you found out the truth, you'd send me away.””
I couldn't speak.
Nia looked down at her hands.
“That's why I didn't want to tell you about the food. I thought if I made Mom angry, she'd tell you the truth and you wouldn't want me anymore.””
I wrapped my arms around her.
“Oh, Nia.””
She clung to me so tightly that her fingers dug into my shirt.
“You're my daughter,” I whispered.
“Nothing changes that.””
Vanessa scoffed.
“You're being dramatic. I never said I'd send her away.””
“You just told me to ask why you treated her differently,” I said.
“What truth were you referring to?””
Vanessa said nothing.
Patricia slowly sat down.
“I think it's time you knew.””
My wife whipped around.
“Mom, don't.””
Patricia looked at me.
“Marcus, before Vanessa married you, she told me something about Nia's biological father. She made me promise never to bring it up.””
I felt Nia stiffen in my arms.
I looked at Patricia.
“Who is Nia's biological father?””
Vanessa's expression shifted.
For the first time, I saw something worse than anger in her eyes.
Panic.
“Marcus,” she said, suddenly calm, “there are things you don't understand about the first year of our relationship.””
“Then explain them.””
She swallowed.
Patricia opened her handbag and removed a sealed envelope.
“I kept this because I thought someday you might need to see it.””
Vanessa took a step forward.
“Give that to me.””
Patricia held it against her chest.
“No.””
“Mother, I swear to God—”
“I'm done protecting you.””
She placed the envelope in my hand.
My name was written across the front.
Beneath it was a date from ten years earlier, three months before Vanessa and I had gotten married.
I looked at my wife.
“What is this?””
Vanessa's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Don't open it.””
I broke the seal.
Inside was a photograph of Vanessa standing beside a man I had never seen before.
She was holding a baby.
Nia.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten sentence.
If Marcus ever learns who her father really is, everything is over.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Patricia.
“Who wrote this?””
Patricia shook her head.
“I didn't.””
I turned the photograph over again.
The handwriting was familiar.
It belonged to Vanessa.
I lifted my eyes.
“Who is this man?””
Vanessa's lips trembled.
Before she could answer, Caleb suddenly spoke.
“Dad, I've seen him.””
Everyone turned.
Caleb looked frightened, but he continued.
“He comes to our house when you're gone.””
Vanessa grabbed the back of a chair.
“That is not true.””
Caleb shook his head.
“I saw him last week. Mom let him in through the garage.””
I stared at my wife.
“Who was in our house?””
She said nothing.
May you like
Caleb's next words changed the entire conversation.
“He told Mom that if she didn't give him the money, he was going to tell you what happened the night Nia was born.””
