Chapter 3: The Truth in the Drawer
I woke up to the sound of voices downstairs.
At first, I thought Dad and Brenda were arguing again.
Then I heard my name.
I sat up immediately.
The house was quiet except for their voices drifting from the kitchen.
I walked down the stairs slowly.
Dad was standing near the counter.
In his hand was a small notebook.
Brenda stood across from him.
Her face was pale.
“What is that?”” I asked.
Dad looked at me.
“Nia…”
The way he said my name made my stomach twist.
“What happened?””
Brenda stepped forward.
“Your father is overreacting.””
Dad held up the notebook.
“Tell her what this is.””
Brenda looked away.
I walked closer.
“What is it?””
Dad opened it.
My eyes scanned the page.
At first, I didn’t understand.
Then I saw my name.
Over and over.
Dates.
Times.
Notes.
Late from work.
“Attitude problem.””
“Needs punishment.””
“Too emotional.””
My heart sank.
“She was keeping records of me?””
Dad nodded slowly.
“I found it in the drawer.””
Brenda crossed her arms.
“It was for parenting.””
“No,” Dad said.
“It was for building a case against her.””
The room became silent.
I looked at Brenda.
“Why?””
She didn’t answer.
“Why were you writing these things about me?””
Her face tightened.
“Because you needed structure.””
“Structure?””
I held up the notebook.
“You wrote that I cried too much when Grandma died.””
Brenda looked uncomfortable.
“You were using it to manipulate people.””
I stared at her.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“My grandmother died.””
“And you used it as an excuse to avoid responsibility.””
Dad stepped between us.
“That’s enough.””
Brenda looked at him.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because there was no explanation that could make those words okay.
Dad closed the notebook.
“How long?””
She looked confused.
“What?””
“How long have you been treating her like this?””
Brenda looked away.
“A few months.””
I almost laughed.
A few months?
It felt like years.
Every forgotten birthday card.
Every dinner where she made me feel like a guest.
Every time Dad wasn’t home and her kindness disappeared.
It all made sense.
Dad’s expression changed.
“You told me she was disrespectful.””
“She was.””
“You told me she was lazy.””
“She is.””
“You told me she was impossible to live with.””
Brenda stayed quiet.
Dad shook his head.
“And I believed you.””
That sentence hurt more than anything else.
Because Dad wasn’t angry only at Brenda.
He was angry at himself.
He walked over to me.
“Nia, I’m sorry.””
I looked down.
“I should have noticed.””
For a moment, I wanted to say it was okay.
But it wasn’t.
So I told the truth.
“I needed you to notice before I ended up outside.””
Dad closed his eyes.
The pain on his face was immediate.
“I know.””
Brenda grabbed her purse.
“So what now? You’re just going to throw me away?””
Dad looked at her.
“No.””
She seemed surprised.
“Then what?””
“You’re going to leave because this house is supposed to be a safe place.””
Her face hardened.
“You’re choosing her.””
Dad answered without hesitation.
“I’m choosing my daughter.””
Brenda walked toward the door.
Before she left, she stopped.
Then she looked back at me.
“Nia, you think you won.””
I said nothing.
Her voice dropped.
“But you have no idea what else your father doesn’t know.””
Dad frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Brenda smiled slightly.
A cold, dangerous smile.
Then she opened the door.
“I guess you’ll find out.””
The door closed behind her.
I looked at Dad.
“What was she talking about?””
He didn’t answer.
Because on the table beside him was another envelope.
One that had been hidden underneath the notebook.
May you like
And written across the front were four words:
*“Andre must never know.””*
