Chapter 7: The Part Nia Didn't Know
Child Protective Services sent a caseworker named Denise Okafor on a Thursday afternoon.
Marcus had told Nia only that a woman was coming to ask her some questions, and that all she had to do was tell the truth.
Nia had looked at him very seriously and said, "I already practiced that." He hadn't known what to make of it until Denise arrived and Nia greeted her at the door with the focused composure of someone who had been waiting a long time to be asked.
Denise spoke with Nia alone in the living room for forty-five minutes while Marcus sat in the kitchen with Raymond.
He did not hear most of it — their voices were too low, the door was nearly closed — but once, near the twenty-minute mark, he heard Nia laugh.
A real laugh, not a careful one.
He put both hands flat on the table and stared at the wall.
"She's going to be okay," Raymond said.
"I know." He didn't move his hands.
"I just — I keep thinking about all the mornings I left for work.
All the days I kissed her head and told her to be good for Diane and — she was protecting me.
The whole time.
A seven-year-old was protecting me."
"She learned it from somewhere."
Marcus looked at him.
"You never made her feel like the truth would break you," Raymond said.
"She was scared of causing you pain — that's not the same thing as being scared of you.
That's love.
Misapplied, yes.
But love."
The living room door opened.
Denise Okafor was thorough.
She had reviewed the school records, the medical file, the teacher's notes, and Nia's notebook before arriving.
She asked Marcus detailed questions — dates, schedules, how often he traveled, what Diane's role had been presented as versus what it became.
She wrote constantly without looking down.
At the end, she set her pen down.
"I want to be straightforward with you, Mr.
Lawson.
Based on the documented pattern — the caloric restriction, the denied access to food, the duration, the fact that it was concealed from you — this meets the threshold for a formal neglect investigation." She paused.
"It may escalate beyond neglect depending on what comes back from Diane's background check."
Marcus went still.
"Background check."
Denise looked at him evenly.
"This is not the first report connected to your partner's name."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"There's another child?" Marcus asked.
"I'm not able to share specifics at this stage.
What I can tell you is that the investigation will be thorough, and you are not the focus of it." She picked up her pen again.
"What I would like to ask you to do is keep Nia's routine as stable as possible.
Her teacher is an excellent anchor.
Don't disrupt that."
After Denise left, Marcus sat alone in the kitchen for a long time.
He thought about the fact that Diane had seemed to know, from the beginning of the morning meeting, what documents existed.
She had not been surprised by the school folder.
She had been surprised by the medical records — that was the moment her posture shifted.
Which meant she had known the school had noticed.
She had simply calculated that the school's concern hadn't risen to a formal report yet.
She had been managing the timeline.
His phone buzzed.
A text from a number he didn't recognize.
*Mr.
Lawson.
My name is Patricia Webb.
You don't know me.
I think we need to talk about Diane.
I have a daughter too.*
May you like
He read it twice.
Then he called Raymond.
