Chapter 4: The Name on the Screen
“Dad… please don’t read that.””
Marcus didn't touch the phone.
He simply stared at Jordan.
“Who is Lena?””
Jordan's fingers tightened around the dish towel.
“Nobody.””
Marcus's eyebrows lifted.
“Nobody doesn't text you saying, ‘You promised you wouldn't tell them yet.’”
Jordan looked at me.
That was the first moment I realized whatever this was, he wasn't afraid of getting caught talking to a girl.
He was afraid of us finding out something else.
I stood slowly.
“Jordan.””
He shook his head.
“Mom, it's not what you think.””
“I don't know what to think.””
“I can explain.””
Marcus pointed toward the phone.
“Then explain.””
Jordan swallowed.
“I met her online.””
Marcus's expression hardened.
“How old is she?””
“Seventeen.””
“You know that for sure?””
“Yes.””
“Have you met her?””
“No.””
“Have you talked to her on video?””
Jordan hesitated.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Jordan.””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“On FaceTime.””
“When?””
“A few times.””
I felt a strange chill.
“Why would she say you promised not to tell us?””
Jordan looked down.
“She doesn't want her parents knowing we're talking.””
Marcus folded his arms.
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“You don't know?””
“She said they'd freak out.””
I looked at the phone.
The screen had gone dark.
“Why is she telling you not to tell us?””
Jordan's eyes filled with frustration.
“Because she trusts me!””
Marcus's voice stayed calm.
“That's not an answer.””
“She doesn't have anyone else.””
Something in the way he said it made me pause.
There was genuine concern in his voice.
Not teenage rebellion.
Not irritation.
Concern.
I stepped closer.
“Jordan, does Lena need help?””
He looked at me.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he whispered, “Maybe.””
Marcus straightened.
“Maybe what?””
Jordan rubbed both hands over his face.
“She says things are bad at home.””
“What things?””
“I don't know.””
“You just said she needs help.””
“I said maybe!””
“Jordan,” I said gently, “what has she told you?””
He looked toward the refrigerator.
His phone sat above it, unreachable.
“She said her stepdad gets angry.””
My stomach tightened.
“How angry?””
“I don't know.””
“Has he hurt her?””
“I don't know!””
Jordan's voice cracked.
He turned away.
“I don't know anything. That's the problem.””
Marcus and I exchanged a look.
Jordan walked to the sink and gripped its edge.
“She called me last night.””
“What happened?”” I asked.
“She was crying.””
Marcus's face changed.
“What did she say?””
“She said she wanted to leave.””
The kitchen seemed to shrink.
I glanced at the clock.
It was almost six.
Outside, the afternoon light had begun fading, turning the windows gold.
“Where did she want to go?”” I asked.
“She didn't know.””
“And you told her what?””
“That she could come here.””
Marcus's head snapped toward him.
“You what?””
Jordan immediately turned.
“I didn't mean literally!””
“You told a seventeen-year-old girl she could come to our house?””
“She has nowhere to go!””
“You don't invite someone into this house without talking to us.””
“I was trying to help her!””
Marcus stepped forward.
“And if she's not seventeen?””
Jordan went silent.
Marcus continued.
“If you don't know who she really is, you don't know who you're talking to.””
“I saw her!””
“On a screen.””
“She showed me her school!””
“That proves nothing.””
“Dad!””
“Enough.””
Marcus rarely raised his voice.
This time, he did.
Jordan went silent.
Marcus took a breath.
“We're not angry because you care about someone.””
He pointed toward the phone.
“We're angry because you're seventeen, you're dealing with something potentially dangerous, and you decided you could handle it alone.””
Jordan's eyes lowered.
I touched his shoulder.
He flinched at first.
Then he let me leave my hand there.
“Why didn't you tell us?””
He stared at the floor.
“Because you'd say no.””
“To what?””
“To helping her.””
I shook my head.
“You don't know that.””
“I know.””
“How?””
“Because every time I ask for something, you guys tell me I'm too young.””
I felt that sentence land somewhere deep.
Marcus looked at him.
“There's a difference between being too young to handle something alone and being too young to care.””
Jordan's eyes became wet.
“She said nobody believes her.””
I squeezed his shoulder.
“I believe that you're worried.””
He looked at me.
“But that doesn't mean everything she told you is true.””
He nodded.
Marcus walked to the refrigerator.
He took Jordan's phone down.
Jordan immediately stiffened.
“What are you doing?””
“I'm calling her.””
“No!””
Marcus stopped.
“Why not?””
“She won't talk to you.””
“Then I'll leave a message.””
“She'll block me.””
Marcus looked at him.
“Why would she block you if she needs help?””
Jordan didn't answer.
That silence said more than his words had.
I looked at my son.
“Jordan.””
He finally whispered, “Because she said if I told anyone, she'd disappear.””
Marcus's hand tightened around the phone.
“Did she say that?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Today.””
“What else did she say?””
Jordan looked at his father.
“She said…”
His voice dropped.
“She said she knows where we live.””
Marcus froze.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What?””
Jordan nodded.
“She saw the address on my school paperwork once.””
Marcus's expression became unreadable.
“Once?””
“I showed her my student ID.””
“Jordan.””
“I know!””
“You showed a stranger your school ID?””
“I thought she was my friend!””
Marcus stared at him.
Then the phone buzzed in his hand.
All three of us looked down.
Another message.
This one from Lena.
Marcus unlocked the screen.
Jordan stepped forward.
“Dad—”
Marcus read the preview.
His face changed.
He turned the screen toward me.
There were only seven words.
*Tell your mother to check her email.*
I stared at Jordan.
“My email?””
Jordan's face had gone completely white.
Then my laptop chimed from the other room.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Marcus looked toward the hallway.
“Evelyn,” he said quietly.
“Don't open it yet.””
But the fourth notification arrived.
And this time, I saw the sender's name.
May you like
It wasn't Lena.
It was my own name.