Chapter 2 - Tuesday NightMarcus read the sentence again.
Ask Nia about Tuesday night.
The paper had already gone soft at the edges from the way his fingers were holding it.
Behind him, the hallway remained silent.
Too silent.
He turned toward his daughter.
“Nia.”
She didn't move.
Marcus stepped closer. “What happened Tuesday?”
Her eyes dropped to the photograph of her mother.
Celeste answered first.
“Nothing happened.”
Marcus looked at her.
“I wasn't asking you.”
Celeste folded her arms. “She's upset. That's all.”
“I know when my daughter is upset.”
“You've been traveling. You don't know what's been happening here every day.”
Marcus stared at her.
“That's exactly what I'm trying to find out.”
He turned back to Nia.
“Tell me.”
Nia's fingers trembled around the frame.
Caleb spoke from behind her.
“She doesn't want to talk about it.”
Marcus looked at his son.
“Then tell me.”
Caleb's expression tightened.
“You won't like it.”
“I don't care whether I like it.”
Marcus lowered himself onto the last stair so he was eye level with Nia.
“You don't have to protect anyone from me.”
Nia finally looked up.
Her eyes were glossy.
“It started when you left for Chicago.”
Marcus felt something heavy settle in his chest.
“You mean the Tuesday I called you from the hotel?”
She nodded.
“You told me to go to bed.”
“I remember.”
“I said goodnight.”
“I remember that too.”
Nia's voice dropped.
“Then Celeste came upstairs.”
Marcus glanced at Celeste.
She didn't blink.
“What did she say?”
Nia swallowed.
“She said I had to sleep downstairs.”
“Why?”
“She said there were people coming over.”
Celeste interrupted.
“There was a dinner.”
Marcus's gaze never left Nia.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What happened next?”
Nia rubbed the edge of the photograph with her thumb.
“She took my phone.”
Marcus's head snapped up.
“She what?”
Celeste exhaled.
“She had been using it all night. I took it away as a punishment.”
Marcus looked at Nia.
“Why?”
“Because I called Dad.”
Celeste shook her head.
“That isn't what happened.”
Nia's mouth tightened.
“I called Dad because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
Nia glanced toward the staircase.
“Someone was in your office.”
Marcus went still.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard voices.”
Celeste's face changed.
Only for a second.
But Marcus saw it.
“What voices?”
Nia whispered, “A man's.”
Marcus stood.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“What did he say?”
“I couldn't hear everything.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember.
“He said your name.”
Marcus stared at her.
“My name?”
Nia nodded.
“He said, ‘Marcus won't know.’”
The house seemed to shrink around them.
Celeste gave a short laugh.
“That is absurd.”
Marcus turned to her.
“Then explain why there was a man in my locked office.”
“There wasn't.”
“There's a photograph in there.”
“Someone is playing games with you.”
Marcus took the photograph from the desk.
“Then tell me who took it.”
Celeste said nothing.
Caleb stepped forward.
“I know.”
Marcus looked at him.
“You know who was here?”
Caleb hesitated.
Celeste's voice cut through the room.
“Caleb.”
He looked at her.
She didn't say another word.
She didn't need to.
It was a warning.
Marcus saw that too.
“Caleb.”
His son took a breath.
“Your friend Daniel came.”
Marcus frowned.
“Daniel?”
“Not the week you thought.”
Celeste turned sharply.
“That's enough.”
Marcus raised his voice for the first time.
“No. It isn't.”
Nia flinched.
Marcus immediately softened.
“I'm sorry.”
He looked back at Caleb.
“When?”
“Tuesday.”
Marcus stared at the boy.
“Why would Daniel come here?”
Caleb shrugged.
“He came through the side door.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You saw him?”
“Yes.”
“With Celeste?”
Caleb didn't answer.
Marcus didn't need him to.
He turned toward Celeste.
“Was Daniel here with you?”
Celeste's face hardened.
“Your son is confused.”
Marcus took one step toward her.
“Was he?”
“He's fifteen.”
“Seventeen.”
Celeste's jaw tightened.
Marcus knew exactly how old his son was.
He also knew Celeste knew.
That tiny mistake told him more than she intended.
Marcus looked at Nia.
“And the locked doors?”
Nia nodded.
“After Daniel came?”
“Yes.”
“Every night?”
“After that.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“I called you.”
Marcus remembered.
Three missed calls.
He had been sitting in a hotel conference room.
He had texted her afterward:
Dad's in a meeting. Everything okay?
Nia had replied:
Yes.
Marcus closed his eyes for a moment.
“What happened when I didn't answer?”
Nia's voice cracked.
“Celeste came into my room.”
Marcus looked at the cream bench through the open doorway.
“She said I was trying to ruin her marriage.”
Celeste snapped, “I never said that.”
Nia continued.
“She said Dad would choose her if I made enough trouble.”
Marcus's face went cold.
Celeste shook her head.
“She is twisting everything.”
“Then why didn't she have a bed?” Caleb asked.
Everyone looked at him.
Caleb pointed toward the room.
“She gave the bed away.”
Celeste stared.
Caleb continued, “She told the movers to take it downstairs.”
Marcus looked at Nia.
“Movers?”
Nia nodded.
“Two men came.”
“When?”
“Wednesday morning.”
Marcus looked toward the floor.
“While I was still in Chicago.”
“Yes.”
He turned to Celeste.
“You replaced my daughter's bedroom while I was away.”
Celeste's eyes narrowed.
“I improved the house.”
“You removed her bed.”
“She hardly used it.”
“She used it every night.”
“She's growing up.”
Marcus laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“This wasn't about furniture.”
Celeste's voice became sharper.
“You're making me the villain because your daughter doesn't like change.”
Marcus walked toward the desk.
He picked up the envelope again.
There was something else inside.
A second sheet of paper.
He pulled it out.
It was a receipt.
Private security.
A date.
Tuesday.
At 11:47 p.m.
Marcus read the line twice.
Then he looked at Celeste.
“Why did you hire security for my office?”
Her face drained of color.
“I didn't.”
Marcus held up the receipt.
“Your name is on it.”
Celeste stepped forward.
“Give me that.”
Marcus pulled it away.
“No.”
“Marcus.”
“What were you protecting?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why lock the office?”
“I told you.”
“You said you were organizing my things.”
“I was.”
“You hired security at midnight.”
“I was worried.”
“About what?”
Celeste stared at him.
For the first time, she had no immediate answer.
Caleb moved beside Nia.
Marcus noticed.
The two children stood shoulder to shoulder now.
Together.
Marcus walked back toward them.
“Nia, did anyone hurt you?”
She shook her head.
“Did anyone threaten you?”
A pause.
Then:
“Yes.”
Marcus's stomach dropped.
“Who?”
She looked toward Celeste.
Celeste's face remained unreadable.
Nia's voice was almost inaudible.
“Not directly.”
Marcus knelt again.
“What does that mean?”
“They left something outside my door.”
“What?”
“A note.”
Marcus felt the room tilt.
“Where is it?”
Nia looked toward the kitchen.
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
She didn't answer.
Celeste's eyes flicked toward the kitchen.
Marcus caught it.
He turned immediately.
“Nia.”
She pointed.
“The old vent under the sink.”
Marcus crossed the room.
He opened the cabinet.
Cleaning products filled the bottom shelf.
Behind them was an old metal vent cover.
He pulled it loose.
Inside sat a folded piece of paper.
Marcus reached in.
Celeste rushed forward.
“Don't.”
Marcus turned.
Her hand was inches from his wrist.
He stared at her.
“What does it say?”
Celeste slowly lowered her hand.
“I don't know.”
Marcus unfolded the paper.
Three words were written in black ink.
YOUR FATHER LIED.
Marcus frowned.
He read it again.
Then he noticed there was a fourth line beneath it.
Smaller.
More carefully written.
His eyes widened.
It wasn't addressed to Nia.
May you like
It was addressed to him.
Ask why your wife knows what happened to your mother's missing letters.
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