Chapter 2 - DAD IS COMING HOMEMaisie had no way to know exactly how long it would take her father to return.
Five minutes could feel like an hour when she was frightened.
Cecelia finally let go of her hair.
Maisie immediately stepped back.
She did not run.
Running made Cecelia angrier.
She had learned that.
That fact alone would later make Reid sick.
Cecelia adjusted a pearl bracelet.
“Go wash your face.”
Maisie stayed where she was.
“I want Dad.”
“He’s busy.”
“He’s coming home.”
Cecelia laughed once.
“You don’t know that.”
Maisie looked toward the security camera.
The red indicator remained on.
Cecelia followed her gaze again.
“What are you staring at?”
“The clock.”
“There is no clock there.”
Maisie swallowed.
Cecelia’s eyes narrowed.
Then her phone buzzed.
Reid calling again.
She looked at the screen.
Ignored it.
Maisie saw his name.
A spark of relief appeared in her face.
Cecelia noticed.
“Don’t get excited.”
Maisie looked at her.
“Dad’s calling.”
“He calls because I am his mother.”
Maisie said nothing.
Cecelia stepped closer.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“You’re his mother.”
“And you are a child.”
Maisie stared.
“Children do not decide what adults believe.”
Maisie’s voice was very small.
“I tell the truth.”
Cecelia’s expression hardened.
“The truth?”
She lowered herself slightly so their faces were closer.
“You threw a fit because I told you to put your tablet away.”
“That’s not why.”
“You screamed.”
“You pulled my hair.”
“I held you still.”
“You called me—”
Cecelia cut her off.
“And if your father comes home, that is exactly what I will tell him.”
Maisie began crying again.
“He’ll believe me.”
Cecelia smiled.
“You think so?”
The sentence sounded almost identical to words Maisie had heard before.
Your father trusts me.
Your father knows I raised him.
Your father knows children exaggerate.
Tonight Cecelia added:
“Your father will never believe you over me.”
Maisie looked at the camera.
She did not smile.
But inside, for the first time, she knew Cecelia was wrong.
The camera had seen it.
Her father had built the system because he wanted to know.
She only had to wait.
Outside, headlights swept across the front windows.
Cecelia turned.
Maisie heard tires on gravel.
Her entire body changed.
“Dad.”
Cecelia’s expression flickered.
“What?”
Maisie heard the SUV door close.
Then the front door opened.
Reid did not shout when he entered.
That somehow frightened Cecelia more.
He walked through the foyer still wearing his dark jacket.
“Maisie?”
She ran.
Reid barely had time to lower himself before she threw both arms around his neck.
“Dad.”
He held her tightly.
“I’m here.”
Maisie cried into his shoulder.
Reid’s eyes moved past her.
Cecelia stood in the doorway to the sitting room.
“Reid.”
He did not answer immediately.
He touched the back of Maisie’s head.
“Does anything hurt?”
She shook her head.
“My hair.”
“Okay.”
He inspected gently.
No visible injury.
Then he stood while keeping one hand on Maisie’s shoulder.
Cecelia recovered quickly.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
Reid looked at her.
She continued.
“Maisie had a terrible tantrum.”
Maisie pulled away from him.
“That’s not true.”
Cecelia sighed.
“You see?”
Reid said:
“Mom.”
One word.
Cecelia stopped.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“She refused to listen,” Cecelia continued. “She became disrespectful. I tried to settle her.”
“You pulled my hair.”
“Maisie.”
Reid looked at his daughter.
“Let her speak.”
Cecelia blinked.
Maisie looked at him.
“She grabbed me.”
Reid nodded.
“And?”
“She called me bad things.”
Cecelia crossed her arms.
“She was screaming.”
“What did you call her?”
Reid asked.
Cecelia looked offended.
“I don’t remember every word.”
“I do.”
Silence.
Reid removed his phone from his pocket.
Cecelia’s face changed slightly.
He tapped the screen.
Then placed it on the side table.
The video played.
Cecelia’s own voice filled the room.
“You little bastard.”
The color left her face.
Maisie stared at the floor.
Reid did not.
He watched his mother watch herself.
The recording continued.
Her hand in Maisie’s hair.
Her threats.
Her statements.
Your father will never believe you over me.
Cecelia’s lips parted.
“Reid…”
He stopped the video.
Then looked at Maisie.
Not his mother.
His daughter.
“How long?”
Maisie stared.
Reid lowered himself again.
“How long has Grandma been treating you like this?”
Cecelia interrupted.
“Reid, she’s upset. Don’t put ideas—”
He turned his head.
“Do not speak.”
Cecelia went silent.
Maisie looked between them.
Then whispered:
“Since before Christmas.”
Reid felt something inside him fall apart.
It was August.
Before Christmas.
Eight months.
Eight months his daughter had been frightened inside his own house.
Eight months while he believed his mother was helping him.
Eight months while Maisie had somehow learned to survive around an adult Reid trusted completely.
He sat on the edge of the sofa because his knees suddenly felt weak.
“Eight months?”
Maisie shrugged in the small, defeated way children sometimes did when something awful had become normal.
“Maybe.”
Reid closed his eyes for one second.
When he opened them, Cecelia was watching him.
“She’s exaggerating.”
Maisie flinched.
Reid saw it.
That tiny movement made his decision.
“Mom.”
Cecelia straightened.
“You’re leaving tonight.”
Her face went blank.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“This is my family home.”
“It is my home.”
“I gave you this house.”
“No.”
Reid’s voice stayed quiet.
“You transferred ownership seven years ago.”
Cecelia stared.
“You are not throwing me out because a child misunderstood discipline.”
Reid looked at Maisie.
Then back at his mother.
“I am removing you because my daughter is afraid of you.”
Cecelia’s face hardened.
“And when she lies again?”
Reid’s eyes became cold.
“She doesn’t need to convince me tonight.”
May you like
He picked up the phone.
“The camera already did.”
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