Chapter 2: The Message On Her Phone
My father stared at the paper in Lily's hands.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The house suddenly felt smaller.
The same house where I had celebrated birthdays.
The same house where I had hung my championship medals.
The same house where I thought I belonged.
Lily walked slowly toward Dad.
"I found it in the trash," she said.
Dad took the paper.
His fingers tightened around the edges.
"Nia wrote this?""
I nodded.
"I put it on the refrigerator.""
He looked at Claire.
"Did you know about this?""
Claire immediately shook her head.
"Marcus, no. Of course not.""
But Lily spoke before I could.
"Mom told me to throw it away.""
The color disappeared from Claire's face.
"Lily.""
Her voice was sharp.
Too sharp.
My little sister stepped backward.
"I was just telling the truth.""
Dad's expression changed.
He hated seeing Lily afraid.
"Claire," he said quietly.
She crossed her arms.
"What?""
"Did you tell her to throw it away?""
"No.""
"Lily?""
Dad looked at her.
She hugged her stuffed rabbit tighter.
"She said it was annoying. She said there were too many papers on the fridge.""
Claire laughed nervously.
"She misunderstood.""
I looked at Claire.
"You knew.""
Her eyes snapped toward me.
"Don't accuse me of things you don't understand.""
My chest tightened.
"Then explain.""
Dad held up a hand.
"Enough.""
He walked to the kitchen counter.
"Claire, give me your phone.""
She stared at him.
"What?""
"Your phone.""
"Why?""
"Because I asked.""
For a moment, I thought she would refuse.
Then she slowly handed it over.
Dad unlocked the screen.
I watched his eyes move.
A few seconds passed.
Then his face changed.
Not anger.
Not exactly.
Something worse.
Disappointment.
"What did you do?""
Claire stood.
"Marcus, give it back.""
He ignored her.
"What is this?""
She moved closer.
"It's nothing.""
Dad looked at the phone again.
Then he turned the screen toward himself.
I couldn't see the words.
But I saw his hands shaking.
"Nothing?""
Claire's voice softened.
"Marcus, listen—"
"No.""
His voice was different.
Cold.
"You knew about her game.""
"I told you, I forgot.""
"You didn't forget.""
Claire went silent.
Dad looked at me.
Then back at her.
"You were texting someone.""
My stomach dropped.
"What?""
Claire's expression changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
Dad continued.
"You said you had plans.""
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"You wrote that you couldn't attend because you had somewhere else to be.""
Silence.
I felt like I was watching a movie.
Except I was inside it.
And I hated every second.
"Who were you texting?"" Dad asked.
Claire looked away.
"Marcus.""
"Who?""
She didn't answer.
Dad put the phone on the table.
"I want the truth.""
For the first time that night, Claire looked nervous.
Then her eyes moved to me.
And somehow, that hurt the most.
Because she wasn't looking at me like a daughter.
She was looking at me like a problem.
"Nia," Dad said softly.
I looked at him.
"Go upstairs.""
"But—"
"Please.""
I wanted to stay.
I wanted to know.
But I also wanted to disappear.
So I picked up my medal.
I carried my trophy upstairs.
And I closed my bedroom door.
I sat on my bed.
The championship trophy sat beside me.
A symbol of the happiest moment of my life.
Now it looked like proof of the worst.
Through the wall, I heard voices.
I couldn't hear every word.
Only pieces.
"How long?""
"I can explain.""
"Explain why you wanted my daughter gone?""
My heart stopped.
Wanted my daughter gone?
I pressed my ear against the wall.
Then everything went quiet.
The next morning, Dad was waiting at the kitchen table.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Nia.""
I sat down.
Claire wasn't there.
"Where is she?""
Dad looked away.
"She went to her sister's house.""
I nodded.
I didn't know whether I felt relieved or sad.
Both.
Dad reached across the table.
"I need to tell you something.""
My stomach tightened.
"What?""
He took a deep breath.
"Claire and I have been having problems.""
I stared at him.
"Because of me?""
His expression broke.
"No.""
"She doesn't like me.""
"Nia—"
"She doesn't.""
Dad was silent.
And silence was sometimes the answer.
He rubbed his face.
"Claire wanted us to move.""
"Where?""
"Out of state.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"She wanted me to take a new job opportunity in California.""
My heart sank.
"And me?""
Another pause.
That pause hurt.
"She suggested you stay with your aunt during the school year.""
I stared at him.
My hands went cold.
"She wanted you to leave me?""
Dad's eyes filled with regret.
"I should have seen it.""
I looked down.
All those little moments suddenly connected.
Claire forgetting my school events.
Claire never asking about my games.
Claire telling Dad I was becoming "too dependent.""
I thought I was imagining it.
I wasn't.
That afternoon, I went into the living room.
My trophy was still there.
I touched the gold medal.
Then I noticed something on the table.
A folder.
My name was written on it.
NIA BENNETT.
I shouldn't have opened it.
But I did.
Inside were printed messages.
Emails.
Notes.
And one sentence made my entire body freeze.
"Once Nia is gone, Marcus will finally understand that his life can move forward.""
I read it again.
Then again.
My hands started shaking.
Because underneath the message was a name.
A name I recognized.
The person Claire had been talking to.
May you like
The person she had planned everything with.
And when I saw who it was, I realized this betrayal was much bigger than I ever imagined.
