Chapter 4: The Sister Arrives
Her name was Carla, and she arrived forty minutes later.
Miah heard the doorbell, then the low murmur of voices in the entryway.
She crept to the top of the stairs and looked through the banister rails.
Carla was taller than Renee, with the same sharp jaw and the same way of standing — chin slightly lifted, shoulders back, as if the room owed her something.
"Where is she?" Carla said.
"Upstairs," Renee said.
"Asleep, hopefully."
Miah sat very still.
Carla followed Renee into the living room.
Miah's father was already there.
She heard the click of the living room door — not fully closed, just pulled to.
Enough to feel private.
Not enough to block sound.
"Daniel." Carla's voice was warm in a way that felt practiced.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding."
"There hasn't," her father said.
"Renee is not a cruel person.
She's been under enormous pressure.
A new marriage, a child who isn't hers, your travel schedule—"
"The child's name is Miah," her father said.
"Use it."
A brief pause.
"Miah," Carla said, with the careful pronunciation of someone repeating a word in a foreign language.
"Renee loves her.
She's adjusting.
That takes time."
"She told Miah I wouldn't believe her if she spoke up.
She took food from her plate at the dinner table tonight.
She sent her to school alone in the rain for months." His voice didn't rise.
"Which part of that is an adjustment?"
"Children exaggerate, Daniel.
You know that."
"I know that my neighbor has been feeding my daughter breakfast because my wife wasn't."
Carla shifted tack without pausing.
"What do you want from this conversation?
An apology?
Fine.
Renee will apologize.
But throwing away a marriage over a child's complaints—"
"Over a child's complaints." Her father repeated it the way you repeat something to make sure you heard it correctly.
"You know what I mean."
"I do," he said.
"I know exactly what you mean."
Miah heard Renee speak for the first time since Carla arrived.
Her voice was quiet, but it had recovered some of its steadiness.
"I've given up a great deal to be in this house, Daniel.
My apartment.
My independence.
I rearranged my entire life."
"I know you did."
"Then give me the chance to fix this.
Send her — send Miah to your mother's for a few weeks.
Let things settle.
We can work on this properly, without her in the middle of every conversation."
The room was quiet for a moment.
"You want me to send my daughter away," her father said, "so that you can stay."
"I want us to have space to repair our marriage."
"By removing my daughter from her own home."
"Temporarily—"
"No."
The word landed flat and final.
Carla tried again.
"Daniel, be reasonable.
Renee is your wife.
You made a commitment.
One difficult evening doesn't—"
"Carla." Her father's voice was almost gentle.
"I'm going to need you to leave my house."
Silence.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Miah pressed her face between two banister rails and watched Carla's chin drop half an inch.
It was the first real thing she'd seen on the woman's face all night.
"You're making a serious mistake," Carla said.
"Maybe," her father said.
"But it's mine to make."
Renee made a sound — not quite a word, not quite a cry.
Her heels crossed the floor toward the hallway.
Miah pulled back from the railing just in time.
Downstairs, Carla's voice dropped to something low and deliberate.
"She's going to cost you everything, Daniel.
That child already cost you one marriage.
Don't let her cost you another."
May you like
The living room went absolutely silent.
Then her father's footsteps moved toward the door.
