Chapter 2: The Question She Couldn't Answer
For several seconds, Tasha didn't move.
The television continued playing a cartoon in the background. Outside, a lawn mower hummed somewhere down the street.
But inside the living room, the silence was suffocating.
“Tasha?”” Marcus repeated through the phone.
She finally reached for it.
“Marcus, don't listen to your father. He's exaggerating.””
Robert immediately stepped between her and the phone.
“I'm not exaggerating anything.””
“Robert, give me the phone!””
“No.””
Isaiah stood beside the sofa, gripping the damaged strap of his camouflage backpack.
He wished he could disappear.
He had never seen his grandfather look so angry.
And he had never heard his father sound so serious.
Marcus spoke again.
“What happened to the money?””
Tasha straightened her royal-blue jacket.
“I bought school supplies. That's what you asked me to do.””
“For all three children?””
“Yes.””
“Then why does Isaiah have nothing?””
“He has a backpack already.””
There was a pause.
Marcus asked, “The one with the broken zipper?””
Tasha looked away.
“It's not broken. It's old.””
“Dad told me it was falling apart.””
“Marcus, children are expensive. I had to prioritize.””
Robert let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Prioritize? You bought your daughters matching designer backpacks and expensive shoes, but couldn't buy your stepson a ten-dollar notebook?””
Tasha's cheeks flushed.
“Don't make this about my daughters!””
“Then stop making Isaiah pay for the fact that he's not yours!””
The words hit the room like thunder.
Jordan stopped playing with her new backpack.
Ava slowly lowered her unicorn keychain.
Tasha turned toward Robert.
“You have absolutely no right to speak to me that way in my own house.””
Robert looked at the receipt.
“Then perhaps you can explain this.””
He held it up.
Tasha crossed her arms.
“What about it?””
Robert read the items aloud.
“Two premium backpacks. Two lunch bags. Two pairs of shoes.
Two stationery bundles. And what's this?””
He pointed to a line near the bottom.
“A decorative bedroom organizer?””
Tasha snatched the receipt.
“It's for school.””
“It's a pink storage cabinet.””
“It's for the girls' study area.””
Robert shook his head.
“Five hundred dollars, Marcus. Every dollar.””
On the phone, Marcus was silent.
Then he asked a question that made Tasha look uncomfortable.
“Did you use the money I transferred?””
Tasha hesitated.
“Yes.””
“All five hundred?””
“Yes, but—”
“Did you buy anything for Isaiah?””
“I told you he already has a backpack!””
Marcus's voice grew sharper.
“I'm not asking whether he owns a backpack. I'm asking whether you bought him anything.””
Tasha looked toward the hallway.
“No.””
The answer was barely audible.
But Marcus heard it.
“So you spent everything on Jordan and Ava?””
“I bought things for the household!””
“Those aren't household supplies, Tasha. Those are two girls' shopping bags.””
Robert turned toward Isaiah.
“Come here, buddy.””
Isaiah stepped forward.
“Tell your dad what happened.””
The little boy shook his head.
Robert knelt.
“You're not in trouble.””
Isaiah glanced at Tasha.
She gave him a warning look.
“Isaiah,” she said, “you don't need to turn this into a bigger problem.””
Robert stood again.
“Don't you dare silence him.””
Marcus spoke through the phone.
“Isaiah, buddy? Can you hear me?””
Isaiah moved closer.
“Yes, Dad.””
“Tell me the truth. Did Tasha get you the backpack we talked about?””
Isaiah's eyes filled.
“No.””
“Did you get new notebooks?””
“No.””
“New pencils?””
The boy shook his head, then remembered his father couldn't see him.
“No, Dad.””
Marcus's breathing changed.
“Then what are you using?””
Isaiah looked at his old backpack.
“The same one from last year.””
There was another silence.
Then Isaiah added something nobody expected.
“It's okay, Dad. I can use Jordan's old notebooks if she doesn't want them.””
Tasha shifted uncomfortably.
Robert closed his eyes.
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, “Son, you don't have to beg for things I already paid for.””
Isaiah wiped his nose.
“I know.””
“Then why are you offering to use someone else's old things?””
The boy looked down.
“Because I don't want Mommy to get mad.””
Tasha's face went red.
“I'm not mad at you!””
Isaiah flinched.
Robert immediately moved beside him.
“Lower your voice.””
Tasha threw her hands into the air.
“This is ridiculous! Everyone is acting like I robbed a bank!””
Marcus answered firmly.
“You received money for my child and spent it on your own children. What would you call that?””
“I take care of this house!””
“That's not what I asked.””
“You're never here, Marcus! You don't see what I deal with every day!””
Marcus's voice softened, but only slightly.
“I work so my children don't have to go without.””
Tasha laughed bitterly.
“Your children? They're all my responsibility when you're away.””
“Then why does one of them get treated differently?””
She had no answer.
Robert picked up the camouflage backpack again.
He opened it carefully and removed the contents.
There were three notebooks.
One had only four pages left.
Another had a torn cover held together with transparent tape.
At the bottom, Robert found a small folded paper.
He opened it.
It was a handwritten shopping list.
The handwriting was Isaiah's.
Backpack.
Pencils.
Blue notebooks.
Lunch box.
A water bottle.
At the bottom, in crooked letters, the boy had written:
Dad said I could choose.
Robert stared at the paper.
He handed it toward the phone.
“Marcus, listen to this.””
He read the list aloud.
On the other end, Marcus made a quiet sound.
It wasn't quite a sob.
But it was close.
Tasha looked away.
“Can we please stop humiliating me?””
Robert turned toward her.
“Humiliation is when a child has to stand in front of a room full of people and explain why he doesn't deserve the same things as everyone else.””
Jordan climbed down from the sofa.
“Mommy?””
Tasha turned.
“What?””
Jordan looked at Isaiah.
“Can he have my old backpack?””
Isaiah looked up.
Tasha's eyes narrowed.
“Jordan, go sit down.””
“But I don't need two.””
“I said sit down.””
Jordan reluctantly returned to the sofa.
Ava hugged her pink backpack tighter.
Robert watched the exchange.
Then he looked at the phone.
“Marcus, I think you need to come home.””
“I'll be there as soon as I can.””
Tasha immediately protested.
“You cannot just leave work because of a backpack!””
Marcus answered coldly.
“It's not about a backpack anymore.””
Robert picked up the shopping receipt again.
“There's something else you should know.””
“What?””
Robert turned the receipt over.
A handwritten note was printed on the back of a separate store slip stapled to it.
He read the name.
Then he looked at Tasha.
“Who is this payment for?””
Tasha went completely still.
Marcus heard the change in Robert's voice.
“Dad? What did you find?””
Robert stared at the additional transaction.
It wasn't for a backpack.
It wasn't for shoes.
It wasn't even for school supplies.
It was a separate cash withdrawal of $300 from the same shopping account.
And beside it was a name Robert recognized.
“Tasha,” he said slowly, “why did you withdraw another three hundred dollars under the name of someone who doesn't even live in this house?””
May you like
Tasha's lips parted.
And for the first time that morning, she looked genuinely frightened.
