Chapter 4
Brenda came back two days later with her sister, a police officer, and a story.
I watched from the upstairs window as they pulled into the driveway.
Dad was already at the door before they knocked.
He must have seen them on the camera.
The officer stood behind Brenda with a neutral expression.
Her sister, Denise, glared at the house like it had personally insulted her.
Brenda wore sunglasses even though the sky was gray.
Dad opened the door but did not step aside.
“Andre,” Brenda said softly. “I came for my belongings.”
Dad nodded once.
“You can collect essentials. Officer can supervise.”
Her mouth tightened.
“This is ridiculous.”
The officer looked at Dad.
“Sir, your wife says she was forced from the residence without proper notice.”
Dad handed him a folder.
“My attorney prepared a temporary safety request. There is also a police report documenting child endangerment. My daughter is upstairs and does not want contact.”
The officer read.
His face changed slightly.
He looked at Brenda.
“Ma’am, is there an allegation involving a minor locked outside?”
Brenda sighed.
“She is seventeen. She was being dramatic.”
I flinched even from upstairs.
Dad’s voice dropped.
“She was in the shed during a snowstorm.”
“She chose to go there.”
“You told her to sleep there.”
The officer looked at Brenda again.
This time, differently.
Denise stepped forward.
“My sister has been raising that girl while he works himself to death.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“Do not talk about my daughter like she’s a burden.”
Brenda pushed her sunglasses onto her head.
“She has turned you against me.”
“No,” Dad said. “You did that when you locked her out.”
Brenda looked past him toward the staircase.
“Nia,” she called.
My heart froze.
Dad stepped fully into the doorway.
“She said no contact.”
“She needs to hear the truth.”
“She lived it.”
That silenced her for half a second.
Then she laughed bitterly.
“You think she’s innocent? Ask her why she was really late.”
Dad stiffened.
“What does that mean?”
Brenda smiled.
There it was.
The old poison.
“She was with a boy.”
My stomach dropped.
Dad looked up toward the stairs.
For one horrible moment, I thought doubt might enter his face.
It didn’t.
He looked back at Brenda.
“She was at work.”
“She told you that.”
“She has a time sheet. Bus delay alert. Text messages.”
Brenda blinked.
“She could have changed—”
“Stop,” the officer said.
Everyone turned.
The officer’s voice was firm now.
“Ma’am, you need to collect essential belongings and leave. Any further statements involving the minor should go through counsel.”
Brenda’s face reddened.
Dad moved aside just enough for the officer to enter first.
Brenda and Denise followed.
I stayed upstairs with my bedroom door locked.
I heard footsteps.
Drawers.
Muffled voices.
Then a crash.
Dad’s voice boomed.
“Put it back.”
I opened my door a crack.
Brenda stood in the hallway holding my mother’s framed photo.
Dad stood at the bottom of the stairs.
The officer stood between them.
Brenda’s face twisted.
“I was just returning it to her room.”
Dad came up the stairs slowly.
“That photo was in the living room before you moved in.”
“It makes the house feel like a shrine.”
The officer looked uncomfortable.
Dad held out his hand.
“It belongs to Nia.”
Brenda clutched it.
For a moment, I thought she might throw it.
Then she saw the officer’s body camera.
She handed it over.
Dad took the frame and looked toward my door.
He knew I was watching.
His face softened.
He brought the photo to me.
I opened the door.
He handed it over silently.
My mother smiled from behind the glass.
My chest ached.
Brenda saw me.
Her eyes narrowed.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
I held the frame tighter.
Dad turned.
May you like
“Leave.”
This time, she did.
