Chương 9
"I have enchiladas."
"You ate them."
"There are corners left."
She began making eggs.
I sat at the counter with Hazel and tried to imagine Lily sleeping in our guest room.
She liked purple.
Or she had when she was six.
Maybe eight-year-olds changed favorite colors.
Noah would want the Wi-Fi password before he took off his shoes.
Daniel would say yes to both children.
I knew that without asking.
That did not mean it was fair to him.
It did not mean it was fair to me.
At eleven twelve, my phone rang from an unfamiliar local number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I thought of CPS.
"Hello?"
"Is this Maya?"
The man's voice was cautious.
"Yes."
"This is Travis Miller."
I straightened.
Lily's father.
"I got your number from the caseworker."
His voice sounded older than I remembered.
More tired.
"She called you?"
"About twenty minutes ago."
I waited.
"So Penny has Lily in Florida."
It was not a question.
"I believe so."
"She didn't tell me."
Something in his voice made me stop preparing my defense.
"Did she need to?"
"We have a custody order."
My pulse picked up.
"What does it say?"
"That she's supposed to notify me before taking Lily out of state overnight."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you know she was facing eviction?"
"No."
"Did you know about the money?"
"What money?"
So I told him.
Not everything.
Enough.
When I reached the part about the supposed loan sharks, he swore softly.
Then he went quiet.
"I've been sending child support," he said.
I looked at the spreadsheet on the table.
"How much?"
"Eight-fifty a month."
The room tilted slightly.
"For how long?"
"Since the order changed three years ago."
I sat down.
Eight hundred and fifty dollars a month.
My brain began multiplying without permission.
"What does it cover?"
"It's child support, Maya."
"I know what child support is."
"I'm saying I don't control what she spends it on."
His defensiveness rose immediately.
"I wasn't accusing you."
"Sorry."
He exhaled.
"This whole thing has been ugly for years."
"Why haven't you had more custody?"
Silence.
It was a rude question.
I knew that after asking it.
"Because I screwed up," he said finally.
The answer was so simple it disarmed me.
"I had a DUI."
I said nothing.
"Three years ago."
His voice tightened.
"Penny used it to push for supervised visits for a while."
"Were you drinking with Lily?"
"No."
"Driving with her?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"Because I deserved consequences."
He sounded angry now, but not at me.
"I was a mess."
He paused.
"I got sober."
A cabinet closed in the background.
"I have weekends now."
"Regularly?"
"When Penny cooperates."
There was a long silence between us.
Then Travis said, "I haven't seen Lily in five weeks."
My skin prickled.
"Why?"
"Penny canceled twice."
"Reason?"
"Stomach bug."
He gave a humorless laugh.
"Then a birthday party."
I thought of Miami.
"Did you call Lily?"
"Her tablet stopped working."
"Convenient."
"Yeah."
For the first time, we sounded like people standing on the same side of something.
That frightened me more than I expected.
For years, my understanding of Travis had come almost entirely through Penny and Martha.
If they had lied about money, what else had I accepted because it made helping simpler?
"I need to ask you something," he said.
"Okay."
"Has Lily ever told you she doesn't want to go home?"
I looked down at Hazel.
A memory came without invitation.
Christmas eighteen months earlier.
Lily sitting under my dining table after everyone else had gone to bed, knees tucked beneath her nightgown.
I had crawled under there and asked what she was doing.
She had said, "Can I stay here until school starts?"
I had laughed because winter break had just begun.
I thought she was being cute.
Maybe she had been.
Maybe not.
"Once," I said.
Travis breathed out slowly.
"She's said it to me too."
Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Then he said, "I'm filing today."
"For custody?"
"For an emergency hearing."
My first reaction was relief.
My second was distrust.
"You think they'll give her to you?"
"No idea."
"Because of the DUI?"
"Because family court doesn't erase history just because you got better."
There was no self-pity in the sentence.
That made me believe him more.
He continued.
"But I'm done letting fear of looking bad keep me from showing up."
The words landed uncomfortably close to something in me.
After we hung up, I sat beside Hazel's bassinet and watched her sleep.
My phone buzzed again.
This time the message was from Lily.
It came from a number I did not recognize.
"Aunt Maya, don't tell Mom I texted."
A second message followed before I could answer.
"Can I come stay with you when we get back?"
I read Lily's message three times before answering.
My first draft was too emotional.
My second sounded like something a caseworker would write.
I deleted both.
Then I typed, "You can always tell me when you don't feel safe."
The reply came immediately.
"I don't feel safe."
My fingers went cold.
I sat down at the kitchen table.
Hazel was asleep in the bassinet beside me, her mouth making tiny sucking motions.
I wrote, "Are you in danger right now?"
Lily took longer this time.
The three dots appeared, vanished, then came back.
"No."
Then, "Mom is mad."
Then, "She keeps yelling at people."
I stared at the screen.
"Is anyone hurting you?"
"No."
"Is anyone stopping you from leaving a room?"
"No."
"Do you know where you are?"
"A hotel."
"What city?"
"I think Miami."
That confirmed what everyone already suspected, but confirmation from an eight-year-old made it feel uglier.
I typed, "Who are you with?"
"Mom."
"Anyone else?"
Another long pause.
"Some friends."
"Do you know their names?"
"Kayla was here but she left."
I sat straighter.
Kayla.
The unknown number.
May you like
So she had been physically there.
I opened her message thread, then stopped myself.
