Chapter 2: What Dad Wasn't Supposed to Know
Madison opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
For the first time since Lauren and Madison had moved into our house three years earlier, Madison looked genuinely afraid.
Not embarrassed.
Not annoyed.
Afraid.
Dad remained beside me.
“What did you just say?””
“I didn't mean anything.””
“You said she was supposed to stop telling people.””
Madison looked at Lauren.
That was her first mistake.
Dad noticed.
“Don't look at your mother. Look at me.””
Madison swallowed.
“I was talking about school.””
“What about school?””
“Just… stuff.””
Dad leaned forward.
“What stuff?””
Lauren stepped between them.
“Marcus, this interrogation is ridiculous.””
Dad's eyes moved to her.
“Then explain it.””
“Zoe has been having behavioral issues.””
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was so predictable.
Every time something happened, there was suddenly a new problem with me.
My attitude.
My disrespect.
My jealousy.
My sensitivity.
Dad frowned.
“What behavioral issues?””
Lauren hesitated.
I could practically see her building the story.
“She lies.””
My stomach dropped.
“She exaggerates things for attention.””
“That isn't true.””
“Zoe,” Dad said gently.
I stopped.
He looked back at Lauren.
“Keep going.””
Lauren folded her arms.
“She told people at school that we weren't feeding her.””
Dad's jaw tightened.
“Were you?””
“Of course.””
I whispered, “No.””
Lauren spun toward me.
“Stop lying!””
Dad stood so quickly his chair scraped backward.
“Don't yell at her.””
Lauren froze.
Dad almost never raised his voice.
He didn't need to.
His face was enough.
“I want everyone to sit down.””
Nobody argued.
Madison sat.
Lauren reluctantly returned to her chair.
Dad remained standing.
“Zoe, tell me what happens when I'm gone.””
I stared at my plate.
“I don't know.””
“Yes, you do.””
“I don't want—”
“Baby girl.””
His voice softened.
“You're not in trouble.””
That sentence broke something inside me.
Because I had spent months believing the opposite.
I looked at him.
“Sometimes they say I already ate.””
Dad's eyebrows pulled together.
“What?””
“Or they say I was disrespectful, so I don't deserve dinner.””
Lauren shook her head.
“Consequences.””
Dad ignored her.
“How often?””
I shrugged.
“Zoe.””
“Maybe twice a week.””
Dad's face went completely still.
“Sometimes more.””
Madison muttered, “She's dramatic.””
Dad looked at her.
She immediately stopped.
I kept talking.
“Sometimes Lauren locks the pantry.””
Dad turned toward the kitchen.
“What lock?””
Nobody answered.
He walked toward the pantry.
Lauren stood.
“Marcus, wait.””
That was another mistake.
Dad stopped.
He looked at her.
Then at the pantry.
Then back at her.
“Why don't you want me looking?””
Lauren's face lost color.
“There are expensive things in there.””
“Food?””
“And other things.””
Dad walked into the kitchen.
I followed slowly.
Madison stayed behind until Lauren gave her a sharp look. Then both of them followed.
Dad reached the pantry.
There was a small combination lock through the handles.
I had seen it dozens of times.
Dad apparently never had.
Because it wasn't there when he was home.
He touched it.
“When was this installed?””
Lauren crossed her arms.
“A few months ago.””
“I've never seen it.””
“I remove it when we have guests.””
Dad looked at her.
“You remove a lock from our pantry when guests come over?””
Lauren didn't answer.
Dad took a pair of heavy kitchen shears from a drawer.
“Marcus.””
He forced the small latch loose.
The pantry opened.
Shelves of food appeared.
Protein bars.
Cereal.
Snacks.
Canned soup.
Cookies.
Crackers.
Enough food that the sight of it made me feel sick.
Dad stared.
Then he looked at me.
“You weren't allowed in here?””
“Not when you're gone.””
Lauren sighed.
“That is not what she means.””
“Yes, it is.””
Dad began moving things.
I didn't understand what he was looking for.
Neither did Lauren.
Until he reached the bottom shelf.
Her expression changed.
“Marcus.””
He stopped.
Behind two large bags of rice sat a gray metal box.
I'd never seen it before.
Dad pulled it out.
Lauren rushed forward.
“That's private.””
Dad turned.
“Whose?””
“Mine.””
“Then why is it hidden in my pantry?””
“Our pantry.””
Dad stared at her for a long moment.
Then he tried the lid.
Locked.
Lauren reached for it.
Dad moved it away.
“What's inside?””
“Personal documents.””
“Then give me the key.””
“No.””
Madison whispered, “Mom.””
Lauren snapped, “Go upstairs.””
Dad immediately said, “Nobody leaves.””
Madison froze.
Dad set the box on the counter.
“Key.””
Lauren's breathing changed.
That was when I knew.
Whatever was inside mattered.
A lot.
“I don't have it.””
Dad stared at her.
“You just said it was yours.””
“I lost the key.””
Dad picked up a screwdriver from the utility drawer.
Lauren's voice rose.
“Marcus, stop!””
He forced the cheap lock.
It popped open.
Inside were envelopes.
Dozens of them.
Some white.
Some yellow.
Some thick.
Some thin.
Dad picked up the first one.
Then he stopped.
Because written across the front was my name.
ZOE BENNETT.
My name appeared on another.
And another.
And another.
I stepped closer.
“What is that?””
Dad opened one envelope.
Cash.
Hundred-dollar bills.
He opened another.
More cash.
A check.
Another envelope contained a card.
My hands went cold.
I recognized the handwriting.
“That's Grandma's.””
Dad looked at me.
“What?””
I picked up the envelope.
My grandmother Evelyn lived outside New Orleans.
She sent me money for birthdays.
Christmas.
Good grades.
School clothes.
She had always been generous.
But about eight months earlier, the cards had stopped.
At least I thought they had.
“I thought Grandma stopped sending money.””
Dad looked at Lauren.
Lauren didn't move.
Dad picked up another envelope.
The date was from two months earlier.
Then another.
Christmas.
Then my birthday.
Then an envelope labeled SCHOOL CLOTHES.
He counted quickly.
His expression darkened with every envelope.
“How much is here?””
Lauren shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You hid it.””
“I was keeping it safe.””
“For who?””
“For Zoe.””
Dad laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Zoe didn't know it existed.””
“I was going to give it to her when she was responsible enough.””
“Responsible enough?””
He picked up the school-cracker bag I'd left on the table and held it up.
“She has been saving crackers because she doesn't know whether she'll be fed, and you're holding her money until she's responsible enough?””
Lauren's eyes hardened.
“You've been gone constantly. I've been running this house.””
Dad stepped closer.
“That doesn't answer my question.””
Madison suddenly stood.
“I didn't do anything.””
Dad looked at her.
“Nobody accused you.””
Her face changed.
Again.
Too late.
Dad turned back toward the box.
Beneath the envelopes was a folded receipt.
He opened it.
I watched his eyes move down the page.
Then stop.
He read it again.
“Marcus?”” Lauren whispered.
Dad looked toward the front window.
Parked in the driveway was Madison's shiny new car.
The car Lauren had supposedly bought with money she'd saved.
Dad lifted the receipt.
“This VIN…”
Madison's face drained.
Dad walked toward the window.
Then back to the counter.
He looked at the receipt.
Then at the envelopes.
Then at Madison.
“How much did that car cost?””
Madison whispered, “Mom?””
Dad's voice became harder.
“How much?””
“Twenty-eight thousand.””
He looked at Lauren.
“The down payment came from this account.””
Lauren said nothing.
Dad stepped in front of me.
Not aggressively.
Protectively.
Like he had suddenly realized I needed someone physically standing between me and them.
His voice was quiet.
“You took my daughter's money?””
Lauren's lips parted.
Before she could answer, I remembered something.
Something Grandma had said during our last phone call.
Something I had been too scared to mention.
“Dad?””
He turned.
“Grandma sent a letter too.””
Lauren's entire body stiffened.
May you like
Then she screamed:
“ZOE, STOP!””
