Chapter 2 - Sophie Had Been Feeding Mia For Six Thursdays
The school secretary wanted to call security.
I said yes.
Then I told her not to separate the girls.
She gave me the look school employees reserve for parents who sound like trouble and money at the same time.
I wasn't interested.
Mia sat beside Sophie in the admissions lobby eating a granola bar the secretary found in a desk drawer.
She ate carefully.
Too carefully.
As if making the food last mattered.
I sat opposite them.
“How many times have you met Sophie?”
Mia looked toward my daughter.
Sophie answered.
“Six.”
I stared.
“Six what?”
“Thursdays.”
My chest tightened.
Every Thursday Daniel picked Sophie up.
Or said he did.
Sometimes he brought her home late and blamed traffic.
Sometimes Sophie said they stopped for ice cream.
I looked at her.
“You've been coming back here after pickup?”
She shook her head.
“Dad comes early.”
“Before dismissal?”
“Yes.”
Mia said, “He waits by the alley.”
“Why?”
Neither girl answered.
I tried again.
“Sophie, why does Dad bring you here?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“He said Mia didn't like going inside.”
I looked at Mia.
“Why?”
She glanced toward the hallway.
“Because he works here.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
“The man on the camera?”
“I don't know him.”
She was telling the truth.
At least about recognition.
The security director arrived five minutes later.
A woman named Celeste Moore.
She did not look happy.
“The rear camera speaker is not supposed to be used for direct communication.”
“Somebody just did.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
“We're checking.”
“That camera knew my name.”
She frowned.
“What exactly did the person say?”
I repeated it.
Her expression changed at the sentence about Daniel.
“You know my husband?”
“By name. His father is—”
She stopped.
I caught it.
“His father is what?”
“Nothing.”
“That was nearly a noun.”
Celeste looked toward the girls.
“Mrs. Carter, give me ten minutes.”
I did not like being dismissed.
I liked frightening Mia less.
“Fine.”
Celeste left.
I turned back to Sophie.
“Did Dad tell you not to tell me?”
Her eyes filled.
Not crying.
Close.
“He said not yet.”
“Same thing.”
“He said you would say no.”
“To what?”
“Meeting Mia.”
“You didn't ask me.”
“Dad did.”
I stared.
“When?”
“He said he already knew.”
That hurt in a very specific way.
My husband had not asked.
He had predicted me and then called the prediction a conversation.
Mia looked between us.
“This is why Mom didn't want me doing it.”
I turned.
“Your mother knows?”
Mia nodded.
“Who is she?”
“Leah.”
“Leah what?”
“Monroe.”
The name meant nothing.
I checked my phone again.
Daniel still had not called.
“Where is your mother?”
Mia looked toward the front windows.
“At work.”
“Where?”
“She cleans houses.”
“Does she know you're here?”
Mia hesitated.
That answer worried me.
“Mia.”
“She knows I see Sophie sometimes.”
“Does she know you were supposed to wait here today?”
“I think.”
“You think?”
“Daniel said he would tell her.”
I closed my eyes for a second.
Sophie reached for Mia’s hand.
I let her.
“What did Daniel tell you about Sophie?”
Mia looked at my daughter.
“That she was nice.”
Anything else?
“He said she asks too many questions.”
Sophie frowned.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
A tiny argument.
Normal.
I almost hated Daniel for letting something normal exist inside a lie.
“What did he tell you about me?”
Mia stopped chewing.
Sophie looked at her.
I waited.
“He said you loved Sophie more than anybody.”
My anger faltered.
Then Mia added:
“And that sometimes when you're scared, you decide first.”
I stared at her.
My own sentence came back to me from ten minutes earlier.
Stay away from my daughter.
I looked at the smashed sandwich in the bag beside Sophie.
Before I could ask anything else, Celeste returned.
She closed the lobby door.
“The camera did not activate from the security desk.”
“Where, then?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Trustee office.”
“What trustee?”
Celeste hesitated.
Then said a name I had heard my husband refuse to discuss for twelve years.
“Walter Carter.”
May you like
Daniel’s father.
The grandfather Sophie had never met.
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