Chapter 2: The Picture I Was Never Supposed To See
The photo was blurry.
That was the first thing I noticed.
Not because it was fake.
Because whoever took it had been hiding.
The image showed Kerensa sitting on the floor of the living room.
She was wearing the same yellow dress she wore two weeks earlier for her preschool picture day.
Her knees were pulled against her chest.
And Meliora was standing over her.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary mother and daughter moment.
Until I looked closer.
Meliora's hand was raised.
Not touching her.
Not helping her.
Raised.
Like she was warning her.
Like she was threatening her.
My fingers went cold around my phone.
I zoomed in.
The picture quality got worse, but the meaning didn't.
Kerensa's face was turned away.
Her little shoulders were hunched.
She looked exactly like she had looked earlier that afternoon.
Small.
Scared.
Quiet.
I stared at the photo until my screen went dark.
Then I turned it back on.
Because some part of me hoped I had imagined it.
I hadn't.
A third message appeared.
*Unknown:* "I didn't know if I should tell you. I thought maybe you already knew.""
My heart started pounding.
I typed back.
*Me:* "Who are you?""
The typing bubble appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
*Unknown:* "Someone who has seen your daughter cry more times than you realize.""
I stood up so quickly the chair scraped against the floor.
Upstairs, Kerensa was sleeping.
My daughter was sleeping in the same house as the woman in that picture.
My wife.
I walked toward the stairs.
Then stopped.
Because anger wanted me to explode.
But instinct told me something else.
If Meliora had been hiding things, I couldn't confront her without knowing what I was dealing with.
I had spent too long believing explanations.
Too long accepting apologies.
Too long assuming love automatically meant safety.
I needed answers.
Quietly, I walked back into the kitchen.
The light was still on.
Meliora sat at the table with a glass of wine in front of her.
She didn't look surprised to see me.
Actually, she looked like she had been waiting.
"Are you done being angry?"" she asked.
I stared at her.
"Was I supposed to stop being angry?""
She sighed.
"There it is again.""
"What?""
"You always make everything a trial.""
I pulled out the chair across from her.
"Who took care of Kerensa today?""
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I did.""
"Anyone else?""
"No.""
"Did anyone come over?""
"No.""
The answers came too quickly.
Almost rehearsed.
"Why?""
"Why what?""
"Why do you look nervous?""
She laughed.
A small, fake laugh.
"I'm nervous because my husband attacked me with hair clippers and now he's interrogating me.""
I looked at her.
"Did you scare her?""
Her expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
"What?""
"Did you scare our daughter?""
She placed her wine glass down.
"Don't do this.""
"Answer me.""
"No.""
"Then why does she apologize every time she drops something?""
Meliora looked away.
"Because she's sensitive.""
"She's four.""
"Exactly.""
I leaned forward.
"No. Don't say that like it explains everything.""
She crossed her arms.
"You weren't here.""
"No.""
"I was.""
"And you think that gives you the right to do whatever you want?""
Her face hardened.
"You have no idea what it's like being with her all day.""
"Then tell me.""
Silence.
"Tell me what makes you so angry at a child.""
She looked offended.
"I'm not angry at her.""
"Then what was today?""
"A mistake.""
"A mistake is cutting her hair unevenly.""
I tapped my phone against the table.
"Today wasn't a mistake.""
Her eyes moved to the phone.
Just for a moment.
But it was enough.
"You took a picture?""
I froze.
"Why does that matter?""
"Because now you're collecting evidence against me.""
The way she said it made my stomach twist.
Not because she was upset.
Because she sounded like someone who had been caught.
"I didn't take the picture.""
Her face went still.
"What?""
"Someone sent it to me.""
The silence afterward was heavy.
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
She stood.
"Let me see.""
"No.""
Her expression changed.
"Excuse me?""
"You heard me.""
She walked around the table.
"Give me your phone.""
"No.""
"You don't trust me?""
I looked at her.
"Should I?""
That hurt her.
I saw it.
But instead of sadness, anger took its place.
"You are unbelievable.""
"Maybe.""
"You come home one day, see one bad moment, and suddenly I'm a monster.""
"One bad moment?""
I stood.
"Is that what you think this is?""
"What else is it?""
I unlocked my phone.
Not to show her the picture.
To show her the message.
Her eyes scanned the screen.
The color slowly disappeared from her face.
"Who sent this?""
"I don't know.""
"Delete it.""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because I want to know the truth.""
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said something I never expected.
"Ask your daughter.""
The room went quiet.
"What?""
"Ask her.""
"Why?""
"Because she's the one who lies.""
My chest tightened.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You're blaming a four-year-old?""
"I'm telling you what happened.""
"She lies?""
"Children do.""
"Not like this.""
Meliora grabbed her glass.
"You don't know her like I do.""
Those words stayed with me.
Because they were true.
She did spend more time with Kerensa than I did.
My job kept me away more than I wanted.
I had missed school events.
I had missed bedtime stories.
I had missed little moments.
And Meliora knew that.
Maybe she was using it.
Maybe I was being unfair.
For one painful second, doubt entered my mind.
Then I remembered Kerensa's voice.
Daddy... she wouldn't stop.
Not "she cut my hair.""
Not "she made a mistake.""
She wouldn't stop.
Those words came from fear.
Not confusion.
I went upstairs.
Kerensa was awake.
Sitting in bed.
Holding her stuffed rabbit.
She looked at me.
"Daddy?""
I sat beside her.
"Hey, sweetheart.""
She looked toward the doorway.
"Is Meliora mad?""
My heart sank.
"Why would you think that?""
She shrugged.
A small movement.
Too practiced.
"Because she gets quiet.""
I brushed her hair back.
The uneven cut was even more obvious under the bedroom lamp.
"Kerensa, can I ask you something?""
She nodded.
"Has Meliora ever scared you?""
Her fingers tightened around the stuffed rabbit.
"No.""
The answer came instantly.
Too instantly.
I waited.
She looked down.
"Daddy?""
"Yeah?""
"Are you going to be mad?""
"No.""
"Promise?""
"I promise.""
She was quiet.
Then she whispered:
"Sometimes she says I'm bad.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"What else?""
"She says I'm trying to make you leave her.""
I stared at my daughter.
"What?""
Kerensa's eyes filled with tears.
"She says if I tell you things, you won't believe me because she's your wife.""
I couldn't breathe.
A child should never know how to manipulate an adult's trust.
A child should never be afraid that telling the truth will destroy her family.
I pulled her into my arms.
"Sweetheart, listen to me.""
She looked up.
"Nothing you say will ever make me stop loving you.""
Her lips trembled.
"Really?""
"Really.""
She hugged me tighter.
Then she whispered the sentence that made everything inside me freeze.
"There was another thing she did.""
I sat perfectly still.
"What thing?""
Kerensa looked toward the closed bedroom door.
Then she lowered her voice.
"The room with the lock.""
I frowned.
"What room?""
She pointed down the hallway.
"The room Meliora says I'm not allowed to open.""
I had lived in this house for three years.
I knew every room.
Or at least I thought I did.
"What room, sweetheart?""
She swallowed.
"The one where she puts my drawings.""
I felt a chill move through me.
"My drawings?""
She nodded.
"When I make bad pictures.""
"Bad pictures?""
"She says they're embarrassing.""
I looked toward the hallway.
At the end of it was the small guest room.
The room we rarely used.
The room Meliora always kept closed.
I had asked about it once.
She said it was full of storage.
I believed her.
I always believed her.
Until now.
I carefully tucked Kerensa back into bed.
"Daddy needs to check something.""
She grabbed my hand.
"Don't let her know I told you.""
That sentence hurt more than anything else.
Because my daughter wasn't worried about being punished.
She was worried about protecting me.
I walked out of her room.
Slowly.
Quietly.
At the end of the hallway, I stood in front of the locked door.
My hand reached for the handle.
It was colder than I expected.
I took out my keys.
One by one, I tried them.
The third key turned.
The lock clicked.
I opened the door.
And the first thing I saw made me forget how to breathe.
The walls were covered with Kerensa's drawings.
Hundreds of them.
But they weren't displayed like memories.
They were pinned up like evidence.
And written across each one, in red marker, were the same words.
*"LIAR.""*
Then my phone buzzed again.
A new message.
This time, it wasn't from the unknown number.
May you like
It was from Meliora.
*"You shouldn't have opened that door.""*
