Chapter 1: The Notebook Under My Pillow
“Daddy, why does Caroline get angry whenever I ask for something that you bought for me?””
My father stopped turning the pages.
I watched his eyes move across the childish handwriting. His fingers tightened around the little notebook, and for the first time in months, I saw an expression on his face that I couldn't understand.
It wasn't disappointment.
It wasn't exhaustion.
It was anger.
But I didn't know who he was angry with.
“Emma,” he whispered, pulling the old mattress closer to the bed frame so he could sit beside me.
“Sweetheart, what do you mean?””
I looked down at my oversized sweater.
“Nothing, Daddy.””
“Don't say nothing. You wrote this because you wanted to tell me something.””
He turned another page.
There were dates written in the corners. Some entries were only a few sentences long. Others filled entire pages.
September 4: Daddy, Caroline said my lunch costs too much money. I don't want expensive food anymore. Can I just have sandwiches?
September 17: Daddy, Olivia got new shoes. My shoes hurt my toes, but Caroline says I can wear them until Christmas.
October 2: Daddy, I got a spelling test today. I got all the answers right. I wanted to show you, but Caroline said you were too busy.
My father swallowed.
“Who told you that I didn't have time to see your spelling test?””
I hesitated.
“Caroline.””
He closed his eyes briefly.
Then he turned to another page.
October 15: I asked Caroline if I could have a new dress for school pictures. She said I was greedy. I won't ask again.
The next entry was dated that afternoon.
November 3: Caroline gave me three bags of Olivia and Lucas's old clothes. I said thank you. I think I am supposed to be happy. But some of them smell funny, and the shoes hurt.
My father stared at the page.
“Emma, look at me.””
I slowly raised my head.
“Has Caroline been making you wear these clothes?””
I nodded.
“Even when they don't fit?””
Another nod.
“Has she bought you anything new since I married her?””
I thought carefully.
“I don't remember.””
He looked toward the wardrobe.
Then he opened the top drawer and began examining its contents.
A pair of faded jeans.
A sweater with a broken button.
Three mismatched socks.
A school uniform with a torn collar.
He lifted the tiny pink dress from the pile.
“Is this the dress you wanted to wear for your school photographs?””
I nodded.
“It's pretty, Daddy. I can fix the hole.””
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he asked a question that made my stomach tighten.
“Emma, where are all the clothes I bought you before I married Caroline?””
I pointed toward the bottom of the wardrobe.
“I don't know.””
“What do you mean?””
“Caroline said they were too expensive to keep.””
My father opened the wardrobe fully.
Behind the garbage bags, he found an empty shelf where my things used to be.
He turned around.
“Where are your shoes?””
I pointed toward the bedroom door.
“Under the stairs.””
“Why?””
“Caroline said they made the hallway messy.””
My father stood up.
“Stay here, sweetheart.””
I immediately grabbed his sleeve.
“Please don't be angry with her.””
He looked down at my small hand.
“Why would you say that?””
“Because she might send me away.””
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he knelt in front of me.
“Emma, listen carefully. Nobody is sending you anywhere. This is your home. You understand?””
I wanted to believe him.
I really did.
But Caroline had told me so many times that I was lucky to be allowed to live there that I had begun to think of the house as something I had to earn.
My father gently brushed my hair away from my face.
“Did she ever tell you that I didn't want to spend money on you?””
I hesitated.
“She said you were tired of paying for two families.””
His expression changed.
“Two families?””
“She said Olivia and Lucas were your family now, too, and I shouldn't make things difficult.””
My father slowly stood.
He took out his phone.
“Richard?”” he said when someone answered.
“I need you to do something for me.””
I watched him pace beside the window.
“Yes. Tonight.””
A pause.
“I want every financial transfer made to Caroline for Emma's expenses over the last two years. Every transaction. School payments, clothing allowances, medical expenses. Everything.””
He listened.
“Don't send me a summary. I want the original records.””
Another pause.
“And contact the school tomorrow morning. I want to know who has been paying Emma's fees and whether any money is outstanding.””
He ended the call.
I was confused.
“Daddy, are you going to take my clothes away?””
He turned around immediately.
“No, sweetheart. Why would I do that?””
“Because Caroline said you were angry when I needed things.””
He walked back toward me and picked up the little photograph of my mother.
“Your mother would never have wanted you to think you had to apologize for needing a clean dress.””
I looked at the photograph.
“I miss her.””
“I know.””
“Sometimes I talk to her when I'm alone.””
My father's face crumpled for just a second.
He sat beside me and pulled me into his arms.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself cry without trying to hide the sound.
He held me until my breathing settled.
Then he noticed something else.
My schoolbag.
It was lying beneath the desk, its zipper held together with a safety pin.
He opened it and found a small plastic container.
Inside was half a piece of bread.
“What's this?””
“My lunch.””
“Why is it only half a sandwich?””
I looked embarrassed.
“Caroline says I eat too much.””
He went completely still.
“Does she give you enough food?””
“Sometimes.””
“What does sometimes mean?””
“When Lucas finishes eating, there are usually things left.””
My father put the container down.
He didn't ask another question.
Instead, he picked me up and carried me downstairs.
I was frightened.
“Daddy, I'm supposed to stay upstairs.””
“Not tonight.””
The dining room was bright.
A large chandelier illuminated the table, where Caroline sat with Olivia and Lucas.
There were serving dishes everywhere. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and a chocolate cake.
Olivia was wearing her new pink designer dress.
Lucas was showing Caroline something on his phone.
They all looked up when we entered.
Caroline smiled.
“Richard! You're home early. I didn't know you were coming tonight.””
My father didn't return her smile.
“Why is Emma eating upstairs?””
Caroline placed her fork down.
“She was being difficult, so I told her to finish organizing her clothes.””
“Her clothes?””
Caroline glanced at me.
“Oh, those. I finally sorted out Olivia's old things. Emma was complaining that she needed new clothes, so I gave her perfectly usable items.””
“Three garbage bags?””
Caroline laughed nervously.
“Children grow out of things. There's no reason to waste money.””
My father looked at Olivia's dress.
“That's new, isn't it?””
Olivia immediately smiled.
“Mom bought it for me last weekend. Isn't it beautiful?””
“Yes,” my father replied.
Then he looked at Emma.
“And what did Emma get last weekend?””
Caroline sighed.
“Richard, please. Don't start making comparisons. Olivia is a growing girl, and Emma has plenty of clothes.””
My father reached into his pocket and took out the notebook.
“Then explain this.””
Caroline's smile disappeared.
“What is that?””
“Emma's diary.””
She glanced at the open page.
“Richard, she's nine. Children exaggerate. You can't take everything she writes seriously.””
“Did you tell her she was too expensive to raise?””
Caroline's expression hardened.
“I said she needed to understand the value of money.””
“Did you tell her that she should be grateful you even fed her?””
“Richard, you don't understand how difficult she can be.””
My father placed the notebook on the table.
“Did you slap my daughter?””
Silence.
Olivia slowly lowered her phone.
Lucas stopped chewing.
Caroline stood.
“I barely touched her hand!””
“You slapped a nine-year-old child because she asked for a dress?””
“She was being disrespectful!””
My father stared at her.
Then he asked something that none of us expected.
“Caroline, where is the money I transfer every month for Emma?””
Her face changed.
May you like
And for the first time that evening, she had absolutely nothing to say.
Because my father had finally asked the one question she had spent two years making sure he never asked.
