Chapter 6: The Question Ava Couldn’t Answer
I didn’t sleep that night.
Melissa’s words kept repeating in my mind.
Ask her why she’s been lying to you.
At first, I refused to believe it.
Because I knew Ava.
My daughter was many things.
Curious.
Sensitive.
Funny.
Stubborn when she wanted to wear her princess dress to the grocery store.
But a liar?
No.
Not my Ava.
Still, doubt is dangerous.
Even when you don’t believe it, it finds a way to enter your mind.
The next morning, I found Ava sitting on the floor drawing.
She was completely focused.
I sat beside her.
“What are you drawing?””
She covered the paper quickly.
“Nothing.””
That surprised me.
“Ava?””
She looked nervous.
“What?””
“Why did you hide it?””
She shrugged.
“I don’t know.””
A tiny moment.
But it reminded me of what Melissa said.
I took a breath.
“Baby, Mommy told me something.””
Ava immediately froze.
“What?””
“She said you’ve been lying to me.””
The color disappeared from her face.
“I’m sorry.””
My heart broke instantly.
Not because she admitted anything.
Because she apologized before I even knew the truth.
“Ava, look at me.””
She slowly looked up.
“I’m not angry.””
“But Mommy said—”
“I want to hear from you.””
She squeezed her pencil.
“I didn’t want you to be sad.””
That answer confused me.
“Sad about what?””
She looked down.
“About Mommy.””
I stayed quiet.
Ava whispered:
“I knew you loved Mommy.””
“I do love you.””
“But you loved her too.””
The way she said it made my chest ache.
“She was nice before.””
I nodded.
“Yes.””
“And I didn’t want you to lose her because of me.””
I felt tears forming.
“Ava…”
She wiped her eyes.
“Mommy said if I told you bad things, you would get angry and everyone would be unhappy.””
I held her.
“But you weren’t lying.””
She shook her head.
“I didn’t tell everything.””
“What didn’t you tell?””
She looked toward the hallway.
Then she whispered:
“The closet.””
My eyebrows tightened.
“What closet?””
She pointed upstairs.
“Mommy’s closet.””
I stood up slowly.
“What about it?””
Ava’s voice became smaller.
“She keeps things in there.””
“What things?””
She hesitated.
Then she said:
“Things that belong to me.””
I didn’t understand.
“What do you mean?””
“She says I don’t need them anymore.””
My stomach tightened.
I walked upstairs.
Ava followed behind me.
Melissa wasn’t home.
Her closet was at the end of the hallway.
I opened the door.
At first, I saw nothing unusual.
Clothes.
Shoes.
Boxes.
Then Ava pointed.
“Behind those.””
I moved the boxes.
Behind them was a plastic storage container.
Inside were my daughter’s things.
Her favorite stuffed bear.
Her birthday crown.
Her drawings.
A small bracelet I had bought her when she was five.
Everything she thought had disappeared.
I sat there staring.
Why would someone hide these?
Why would someone take pieces of a child’s happiness and put them away?
Then I found something underneath the toys.
A notebook.
I opened it.
The first page made my hands go cold.
It wasn’t a diary.
It was a list.
A list of dates.
A list of moments.
And at the top were four words:
“Reasons Ava is difficult.””
I turned the page.
The first entry was dated almost a year ago.
And the last entry was from yesterday.
But what shocked me most wasn’t the list.
It was the final sentence written at the bottom.
A sentence that revealed Melissa had been planning something much bigger than punishment.
May you like
It said:
“Soon, she won’t be part of this family anymore.””
