Chapter 2 - THE DRIVE HOME
The silence that followed was heavier than stone. The stepmother opened her mouth, but no words came out. She quickly averted her eyes, aggressively grabbing the shopping bags from the counter.
“I am not doing this in the middle of a department store,” she whispered fiercely, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “We are going to the car.”
Marcus did not move. He turned to the cashier, handed over his own black card, and paid for Nia’s sneakers and backpack, along with three new outfits he walked over and pulled off the racks himself. He didn’t check the price tags. He just handed them to the clerk. Nia watched him, her small hands clutching the hem of her oversized shirt.
Once the transaction was complete, Marcus gently placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and guided her out of the glass doors.
The ride back to their sprawling suburban home was entirely wordless. The stepmother sat in the passenger seat, staring fixedly out the window at the passing streetlights, her jaw clenched tight. The two younger children sat in the back row of the SUV, surrounded by their new clothes, terrified of the palpable tension radiating from the front seats.
Nia sat behind her father, holding her single bag on her lap. Marcus gripped the leather steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned a pale shade of gray. His mind was racing, connecting terrifying dots. His late wife, Sarah, had passed away when Nia was only six. Before she died, she had meticulously organized a cedar chest full of her most precious belongings—a vintage gold locket, her wedding band, handmade silk scarves, and three heavy leather photo albums. It was supposed to be Nia’s inheritance, safely stored in the locked closet of Marcus’s home office.
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As he pulled the SUV into the wide driveway, he didn’t wait for the engine to fully cool down before he spoke.
“Take the kids inside and put their things away,” Marcus instructed his wife, his voice void of any warmth. “Then meet me in my office.”
