Chapter 5: What Caleb Kept in His Drawer
Three weeks passed.
On the surface, nothing changed.
I went to school.
I came home on time.
I ate whatever was available — usually something left over, something cold, something that had been put away before I arrived.
Vanessa never threw food away again.
She didn't need to.
She had found a quieter method.
Portion it for four.
Leave nothing extra.
If Nia is hungry, Nia can find something in the pantry.
There was always something in the pantry.
Crackers.
Peanut butter.
A can of soup I had to heat myself.
I stopped expecting anything different.
Then one Saturday, Caleb knocked on my door.
He came in without waiting for an answer, which was normal for him, and sat on the floor with his back against my bed.
He was holding something.
A folded piece of paper.
"I found something," he said.
"What?"
He held it out.
I took it.
Unfolded it.
It was a printed email.
The date at the top was fourteen months ago.
The sender was Vanessa.
The recipient was someone named Donna — I didn't recognize the name.
I read it.
Then I read it again.
*Donna, I need advice.
I've tried everything.
He won't send her to his sister's.
He keeps saying she's his responsibility and he made a promise to her mother.
But she doesn't fit here.
She's not mine and she never will be.
The other two are fine — they're young enough that they've adjusted.
But Nia is too old and too much like her mother and every time I look at her I feel like I'm competing with a ghost.
I need a way to make this work without him realizing what I'm actually asking.*
I put the paper down on my knee.
"Where did you find this?" I asked.
"She printed it and left it in the recycling bin.
I don't think she realized it was still readable." He paused.
"I kept it.
I don't know why.
I just felt like I should."
"Does your dad know you have this?"
"No."
I looked at the paper again.
*Too old and too much like her mother.* I felt something move through me that wasn't quite sadness and wasn't quite satisfaction.
It was the feeling of having suspected something for a long time and finally seeing it written down in plain language.
"She's been trying to get rid of me," I said.
Not a question.
"Yeah," Caleb said.
"I think so."
"And she's been doing it carefully.
So he wouldn't see it."
Caleb nodded.
He was looking at me with that face he had — the one that couldn't hide things.
Right now it was showing me something I hadn't expected from a fourteen-year-old.
It was showing me that he was angry.
Not scared.
Angry.
"She told Ava last week that you were thinking about going to live with Aunt Renee," he said.
I went still.
"She said what?"
"She told Ava that you'd been talking to Dad about it.
That it was your idea.
That you wanted a fresh start." He looked at the floor.
"Ava cried for like an hour.
She thought you were leaving and just hadn't told her."
My throat tightened.
"I never said that.
I've never said anything like that."
"I know."
"Caleb, I would never leave without telling Ava."
"I know, Nia." He looked up.
"That's why I'm showing you the email."
I folded the paper back along its creases.
Held it in both hands.
"She's building something," I said.
"She's been building it for a while.
Making Dad think I don't fit.
Making the kids think I'm choosing to go.
So when it happens, it looks like everyone's idea except hers."
Caleb didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
I looked at the paper in my hands.
"I need to talk to Dad," I said.
"Before she gets there first."
"When?"
"Tonight.
Before dinner."
Caleb stood up.
He hesitated at the door.
"She's going to say you're causing drama," he said.
"She's going to make it look like you're attacking her."
"I know."
"Are you ready for that?"
I looked at the folded email.
May you like
"I've been ready for four years," I said.
"I just didn't have anything to show him."
