Chapter 2: The Rules Nobody Saw
Marcus did not sleep that night.
The house was silent, but his mind was not.
He sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee that had gone cold hours ago.
Across from him was the chore chart.
The one Vanessa had created six months earlier.
Marcus had seen it before.
He had even praised it.
“Great idea,” he had told her.
“Teaching them responsibility early will help.””
He had never looked closely.
Now he did.
Caleb had three responsibilities listed.
Feed the dog.
Put away his toys.
Keep his room clean.
Ava had two.
Put her books away.
Choose her clothes for school.
Nia’s list covered almost the entire page.
Laundry.
Bathrooms.
Kitchen.
Floors.
Trash.
Dishes.
Helping with groceries.
Cleaning after dinner.
Marcus stared at the paper.
His stomach tightened.
He heard footsteps behind him.
“Nobody’s forcing her.””
Vanessa.
Marcus didn’t turn.
“She’s twelve.””
“She’s capable.””
“That’s not what I asked.””
Vanessa walked closer.
“You’re making this bigger than it is.””
Marcus finally looked at her.
“Am I?””
She crossed her arms.
“Yes.””
“Then explain the bruise.””
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Marcus noticed.
“I don’t know.””
“You don’t know?””
“She’s clumsy.””
Marcus laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Clumsy?””
“Yes.””
“She’s been washing dishes until her hands crack, and your explanation is she’s clumsy?””
Vanessa’s voice became sharper.
“You’re attacking me because you came home at the wrong moment.””
“The wrong moment?””
“Yes.””
She pointed toward the hallway.
“You have no idea what it’s like managing this house every day.””
Marcus stood.
“I know exactly what it’s like. I know because I’m part of this family.””
“Are you?””
The question hit harder than he expected.
Vanessa looked away.
“You’re always working.””
Marcus went quiet.
Because there was truth buried inside the accusation.
His job required travel.
Long hours.
Late meetings.
He had convinced himself providing for them was enough.
But now he wondered what he had missed while he was busy proving he loved them.
“I trusted you,” he said.
Vanessa’s expression softened.
“I’m her mother.””
Marcus looked toward the hallway.
“Nia has a mother.””
The words hung between them.
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“She’s not my responsibility alone.””
Marcus stared.
“What did you just say?””
“I mean she needs structure.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“You said she isn’t your responsibility.””
Vanessa looked frustrated.
“You’re twisting my words.””
“No. I’m hearing them.””
A small sound came from the hallway.
Marcus turned.
Nia was standing there.
She looked like she had been crying.
“Nia?””
She quickly wiped her face.
“Sorry.””
Marcus walked toward her.
“You don’t need to apologize.””
She nodded but didn’t look up.
“How long?””
She hesitated.
“How long what?””
“How long has this been happening?””
Nia stayed silent.
Marcus lowered himself so they were at the same height.
“Please tell me.””
The girl looked toward the kitchen.
Then whispered,
“Since you started traveling more.””
His chest tightened.
“Every trip?””
A small nod.
“What would happen?””
Nia rubbed her sleeve between her fingers.
“Mom would say I needed to help more.””
“And?””
“She would make me finish everything before I could eat.””
Marcus froze.
“Before you could eat?””
“Sometimes.””
“How many times?””
Nia didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Marcus closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, Caleb appeared behind her.
“Dad?””
Marcus looked up.
“What?””
Caleb stepped forward.
“There’s something else.””
Nia immediately turned.
“Caleb, don’t.””
But the boy looked at Marcus.
“You should know.””
Marcus felt his heartbeat quicken.
“What is it?””
Caleb swallowed.
“Mom told Nia that if she complained, you would believe her because she was your favorite.””
Nia looked embarrassed.
Marcus turned slowly.
“What?””
Caleb continued.
“She said you only cared about Nia because you felt sorry for her.””
The kitchen became completely silent.
Marcus felt something break inside him.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Pain.
He looked at Nia.
“Did you believe that?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Sometimes.””
Marcus sat beside her.
“Nia.””
She looked away.
“I know I’m not your real daughter.””
The words were barely audible.
Marcus felt like the air had disappeared.
He reached for her hand.
“You are.””
“But I’m not.””
“Yes, you are.””
“No, Dad.””
Her voice cracked.
“I think maybe I have to be better than everyone else because I’m not like them.””
Marcus pulled her into a hug.
“You never had to earn your place here.””
For a moment, she let herself cry.
Then Marcus noticed something.
A small notebook sticking out of her backpack.
He recognized it.
“Nia?””
She immediately pulled away.
“What?””
“What’s that?””
“Nothing.””
Marcus gently took it.
She didn’t fight him.
Inside were pages.
Dates.
Notes.
Small handwriting.
Saturday.
“Cleaned kitchen. Didn’t get dinner until 8:30.””
Tuesday.
“Mom said I was selfish for asking for help.””
Thursday.
“Caleb tried to help. Mom told him to stop.””
Marcus turned another page.
Then another.
His hands started shaking.
This wasn’t one bad day.
This wasn’t a misunderstanding.
This was a pattern.
At the bottom of the last page was a sentence written darker than the others.
A sentence Nia had written alone.
Marcus read it.
And his blood went cold.
May you like
Because it said:
“I think Mom is planning to send me away.””
