Chapter 1: The Birthday Cake
The first thing I noticed when I walked back into the kitchen was the frosting on my daughter's dress.
The second was the way my sister-in-law was gripping her arm.
And the third was the look on my eight-year-old daughter's face—the kind of terror a child should never feel at her own birthday party.
"Stop making a mess!"" Tasha snapped.
She shoved Maya backward into a wooden dining chair.
The chair scraped violently across the tile.
Maya stumbled, hit the edge of the seat, and burst into tears.
I froze in the doorway, still holding a stack of paper plates.
"What happened?""
Tasha released my daughter's arm so quickly that Maya nearly fell sideways.
"She tripped," she said.
Her voice was suddenly sweet.
Almost rehearsed.
I put the plates down.
"Maya?""
My daughter looked at me with wet eyelashes. Her little fingers clutched the pink skirt of her birthday dress.
"Mommy, I didn't mean to.""
I crossed the kitchen.
"Didn't mean to do what, sweetheart?""
Tasha answered before Maya could.
"She got frosting everywhere. I told her three times to be careful, and she started crying when I corrected her.""
I looked at the half-eaten birthday cake on the counter.
There was a small smear of pink frosting near the edge.
That was it.
One tiny smear.
For that, my sister-in-law had put her hands on my child.
"Tasha," I said quietly, "why did you push her?""
"I didn't push her.""
"You were holding her arm.""
"I was trying to keep her from knocking over the cake.""
Maya shook her head.
"Mommy, Aunt Tasha—"
"Enough, Maya," Tasha interrupted.
A voice came from the doorway.
"No, Mom. You pushed her.""
Everyone turned.
Jordan, Tasha's twelve-year-old son, stood near the hallway.
He was still wearing his birthday-party sneakers, but his face looked nothing like a child enjoying a celebration.
He looked angry.
More importantly, he looked frightened.
Tasha's expression hardened.
"Jordan, go upstairs.""
He didn't move.
"I said go upstairs.""
"No.""
The single word seemed to drain the air from the kitchen.
Tasha put down the serving spoon.
"Don't embarrass me in front of everyone.""
Jordan swallowed.
"Then stop lying.""
I had known Jordan since he was born. He was usually quiet, polite, and eager to avoid trouble.
I had never heard him speak to his mother like that.
"Jordan," I said gently, "what happened?""
He glanced at Maya.
Then at his mother.
"She didn't just get mad about the frosting.""
Tasha laughed nervously.
"He's being dramatic. He's twelve.""
Jordan's hands curled into fists.
"Mom, you told Maya not to tell.""
My stomach tightened.
"Tell us what?"" I asked.
Tasha stepped toward him.
"Jordan, upstairs. Now.""
He stepped backward.
"She saw you.""
Tasha stopped.
For the first time that afternoon, her face lost its color.
I looked at my daughter.
"Maya, sweetheart, what did you see?""
Maya lowered her eyes.
"I don't want Aunt Tasha to be mad.""
I knelt in front of her.
"Nobody is going to hurt you. You can tell me anything.""
Tasha folded her arms.
"This is ridiculous. You're turning a birthday party into an interrogation.""
But Jordan wasn't finished.
He disappeared upstairs.
"Jordan!"" his mother shouted.
His footsteps thundered across the ceiling.
A moment later, he returned holding a large brown envelope.
He placed it on the kitchen table.
"Mom, you said nobody would find these.""
Tasha lunged for it.
Jordan pulled it away.
"Don't!""
I opened the envelope.
The first paper was a hotel receipt.
The second was another receipt, dated three weeks earlier.
The third was a photograph from a parking garage.
My fingers went cold.
The hotel room had been booked under Tasha's name.
But the second name printed on the reservation made my vision blur.
Daniel.
My husband.
I turned the page.
Another receipt.
Another hotel.
Another date.
Then a room key slipped from the envelope and landed beside my hand.
Maya had stopped crying.
She was watching me.
"Mommy," she whispered, "I saw them kissing.""
I couldn't breathe.
Daniel had told me he was working late on those dates.
He had kissed me goodbye every morning.
He had tucked Maya into bed.
He had stood beside me at family dinners.
And apparently, he had been sleeping with my sister-in-law.
Tasha reached across the table.
"Give me that.""
I pulled the envelope against my chest.
"How long?""
She said nothing.
"How long have you been seeing my husband?""
Tasha's lips parted.
Then she looked at Jordan.
May you like
And her next words made everything worse.
"Your husband isn't the only person who knows about this.""
