Chapter 5: The Family She Wanted
I thought I had misunderstood Patricia.
“What does that mean?””
Vanessa immediately answered.
“It means my mother is dramatic.””
Patricia shook her head.
“No.””
“Mom, you've done enough.””
“I should've done something months ago.””
The regret in her voice sounded real.
It didn't erase anything.
But it made me listen.
“Tell me,” I said.
Patricia looked toward the basement stairs.
“Not in front of the children.””
We went upstairs.
Emily and Caleb sat together on the couch.
Caleb had found a blanket and wrapped it around Emily's shoulders.
When she saw me, she stood.
“Daddy?””
I crossed the room and hugged her.
“I'm right here.””
“Are we leaving?””
I looked over her head at Vanessa.
“Yes.””
Vanessa stiffened.
“This is my house too.””
“I didn't say you were coming.””
Her mouth fell open.
I packed one small overnight bag for Emily.
Caleb watched from his bedroom doorway.
“What about me?””
The question stopped me.
Vanessa answered from behind us.
“You're staying with me.””
Caleb's face collapsed.
“No.””
“Caleb.””
“I don't want to.””
“You don't have a choice.””
I looked at the professional who had remained with us.
She spoke quietly with Caleb, then Vanessa, making it clear the situation involving both children would be documented and appropriate next steps taken.
I wasn't going to make promises I couldn't legally control.
But I could make one promise.
I crouched in front of Caleb.
“What you did for Emily mattered.””
His eyes filled.
“I should've told you sooner.””
“You're ten.””
“I knew it was wrong.””
“And you tried to help.””
He started crying.
I hugged him.
Vanessa stared at us as if I'd betrayed her.
Maybe in her mind, I had.
Patricia asked if she could come with Emily and me.
I almost said no.
Then she whispered, “I need to show you something.””
We drove to my brother Marcus's house.
He opened the door in sweatpants, took one look at Emily, and stopped asking questions.
His wife, Dana, made Emily toast with scrambled eggs.
Emily stared at the plate.
“Can I eat all of it?””
Dana's hand froze.
“Yes, sweetheart.””
“All?””
“Every bite.””
Emily looked at me for permission.
I nodded.
That nearly broke me more than the videos.
After Emily fell asleep in the guest room, Patricia placed her phone on the kitchen table.
“I should've told you.””
“Yes.””
She flinched.
I didn't soften it.
“You should have.””
“I thought Vanessa was being strict. Then it became something else.””
“When?””
“After your wedding.””
Vanessa and I had married eighteen months earlier.
“She complained that Emily never accepted her as a mother.””
“Emily was five.””
“I know.””
“Her mother died.””
“I know.””
Patricia wiped her eyes.
“Vanessa wanted the four of you to look like one family. She wanted Emily to call her Mom.””
I remembered.
Vanessa had suggested it once.
I'd refused to pressure Emily.
“She already had a mother,” I'd told her.
Vanessa had smiled and said she understood.
Apparently she hadn't.
Patricia unlocked her phone.
“She started saying Emily was the reason you never fully belonged to her.””
My jaw tightened.
“What does that even mean?””
“She said Rachel was still in the house because of Emily.””
I stared at her.
“That's insane.””
“I told her that.””
“Did you?””
Patricia looked down.
“Not strongly enough.””
She opened her messages.
There were dozens from Vanessa.
Patricia scrolled to one from seven months earlier.
I read it.
I can't build a real family while Daniel keeps treating Emily like Rachel's memorial.
Another:
Caleb accepts Daniel. Why can't Emily accept me?
Then one that made my stomach turn.
If she keeps rejecting me, maybe she'd be happier with Rachel's sister.
I looked up.
“Rachel's sister?””
My late wife's younger sister, Nicole, lived in Oregon.
Emily adored her.
“Vanessa wanted me to send Emily away?””
“She talked about it.””
“Did she ever talk to Nicole?””
Patricia hesitated.
“I don't know.””
That hesitation told me she knew something.
“Patricia.””
“She once asked me whether Nicole would take Emily permanently.””
I stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“And you didn't tell me?””
“I thought it was angry talk.””
“You watched your daughter isolate a six-year-old from food, and you called it angry talk?””
“I was wrong.””
“Yes.””
My voice cracked.
“You were.””
Patricia cried silently.
I didn't comfort her.
Then my phone rang.
Nicole.
Seeing her name after that conversation made every hair on my arms rise.
I answered.
“Daniel?””
She sounded worried.
“Nicole, what's wrong?””
“Vanessa just called me.””
I looked at Patricia.
“What did she say?””
“She said you're having some kind of breakdown.””
I closed my eyes.
“Of course she did.””
“She asked whether Emily could stay with me for a while.””
My hand tightened around the phone.
“For how long?””
There was silence.
“Daniel…”
“How long?””
“She said maybe permanently.””
Patricia covered her mouth.
I walked toward the window.
“Did she ever ask you this before?””
Nicole didn't answer immediately.
That frightened me.
“Nicole?””
“About six months ago, Vanessa called me.””
My heart pounded.
“She said Emily was struggling in your home and that you were too guilty to admit it.””
“What?””
“She said Emily kept asking to live with me.””
I stared toward the hallway where my daughter slept.
“She never told me that.””
“I know.””
“How?””
“Because I asked Emily the next time we video-called.””
I remembered that call.
Emily had seemed unusually quiet afterward.
“What did she say?””
Nicole's voice dropped.
“She looked terrified and said, ‘Vanessa told me not to talk about that.’”
My knees weakened.
“Why didn't you call me?””
“I did.””
I frowned.
“No, you didn't.””
“Yes, Daniel. Three times.””
I checked my memory.
Nothing.
“No calls.””
“I left a voicemail too.””
A cold realization crept over me.
Vanessa knew my phone passcode.
She often answered calls when I was driving.
She sometimes cleared spam messages.
“Send me screenshots.””
“I already am.””
My phone buzzed.
Three calls.
All on a Saturday morning when Vanessa had borrowed my phone to order groceries.
Then Nicole sent another screenshot.
A message supposedly from me.
Stop interfering in my marriage. Emily is fine.
I had never sent it.
I stared at the words.
Patricia whispered, “What?””
I showed her.
Her face went white.
Then another message arrived from Nicole.
This one contained a photograph.
A printed form sat on a desk.
At the top were words I had to read twice.
TEMPORARY GUARDIANSHIP.
Emily's name was typed beneath it.
So was Nicole's.
May you like
And at the bottom was something that looked terrifyingly familiar.
My signature.
