My mother arrived forty-three minutes later.
I watched the clock because I couldn't stop myself.
6:58.
7:11.
7:24.
7:36.
At 7:41, headlights swept across Sarah's living room.
A car door slammed.
Derek stood immediately.
Deputy Collins moved toward the entrance.
Elena remained beside me.
“Stay here, Maya.”
Then Mom's voice came from outside.
“WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?”
I stopped breathing.
She knew exactly how to sound concerned when other people were listening.
Deputy Collins stepped onto the porch.
“Ms. Valerie, lower your voice.”
“I want my child.”
“Maya is safe.”
“She belongs with me.”
“She is currently under child-welfare protection.”
Mom laughed.
“This is absurd.”
Derek appeared behind Deputy Collins.
Mom saw him.
Her face changed.
“Derek.”
He didn't answer.
“You were supposed to stay in Hawaii.”
“You left a child alone.”
“Don't start.”
“Six days, Valerie.”
“She was fine.”
I looked down.
Elena touched my hand.
Mom stepped toward the door.
“Move.”
“No.”
“You can't keep me from my daughter.”
“Maya has indicated that she's afraid of your reaction.”
Mom went still.
“She said that?”
Nobody answered.
Then she saw me.
“Maya.”
I couldn't move.
“Come here.”
Elena stood.
“No.”
Mom stared at her.
“I wasn't talking to you.”
“You won't pressure her.”
“She is my daughter.”
“And right now, I'm responsible for her safety.”
Mom's eyes narrowed.
“Maya, tell them you want to go home.”
My mouth opened.
No words came.
“Tell them.”
Elena stepped between us.
“Stop.”
Mom's voice sharpened.
“She is sensitive.”
Derek shook his head.
“Stop saying that.”
Mom turned.
“You stay out of this.”
“I was supposed to marry you.”
“Supposed to?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
She stared at him.
“You're ending our engagement?”
“No.”
He paused.
“I'm ending it because I finally understand what you do when nobody is watching.”
Mom's face hardened.
She turned back toward Deputy Collins.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not currently.”
“Then I'm taking Maya home.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
Mom blinked.
“What?”
“Maya isn't returning to your custody tonight.”
For the first time, I saw fear cross her face.
Only for an instant.
Then she smiled.
“You can't do that.”
Elena answered calmly.
“Yes, we can.”
“There will be a hearing.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Mom looked at me.
“Maya.”
I stared at the floor.
“You want to come home, don't you?”
Nothing came out.
Elena stepped closer.
“You don't have to answer that.”
Mom's expression turned cold.
“This is ridiculous.”
She eventually stepped away from the door.
Deputy Collins asked about food.
Mom claimed I had plenty.
He asked where.
“Kitchen cupboards. Refrigerator. Freezer.”
“We documented the kitchen.”
“She probably ate everything.”
I looked up.
She was saying I had consumed a month's worth of food in six days.
Derek stared at her.
“You really believe that's believable?”
“It could happen.”
“No.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I saw the photographs.”
Mom froze.
“What photographs?”
She looked at Elena.
Then at me.
“The notebook.”
Her eyes locked on mine.
“You showed them your notebook?”
I pulled my hands into my sleeves.
Elena moved between us.
“Don't question her.”
“That notebook is private.”
“It belongs to Maya.”
“She is a minor.”
“And it may contain evidence.”
Mom glanced toward the suitcases in her car.
Just once.
Deputy Collins noticed.
“Ms. Valerie, does your luggage contain anything belonging to Maya?”
“No.”
“Legal documents?”
“No.”
“Anything related to her custody?”
“No.”
He watched her carefully.
“Would you consent to us checking the bags?”
“No.”
“That is your right.”
Mom seemed relieved.
“But we may request authorization if necessary.”
Her relief disappeared.
She reached for the larger suitcase.
The wheel caught on the porch.
The bag tipped over.
The zipper split.
Clothes spilled onto the wooden boards.
A dress.
A pair of shoes.
A toiletry case.
Then a thick white envelope slid from beneath the lining.
Mom froze.
“I'll take that.”
Deputy Collins raised his hand.
“Don't touch it.”
“It's personal.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
Derek stared at the envelope.
“Valerie.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“I've seen that.”
“No, you haven't.”
“Yes.”
“You had it at the resort.”
Mom said nothing.
“You told me it was wedding paperwork.”
“It was.”
“Then why was it hidden inside the suitcase lining?”
Her face flushed.
“I didn't hide it.”
The deputy looked down.
Black letters were visible on the envelope.
COUNTY FAMILY COURT.
My heart began pounding.
Family court?
Deputy Collins photographed the envelope.
Mom reached for it.
“Stop.”
Her hand froze.
“What is that document?” he asked.
“A private family matter.”
“Maya is part of your family.”
Mom looked away.
Derek's voice dropped.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Does that envelope concern Maya?”
She didn't answer.
I stepped forward.
“What is it?”
Elena stopped me.
“Stay here.”
“Why?”
“We need to verify it.”
I looked at Mom.
“Is my dad alive?”
Her face went white.
Derek turned toward her.
“Maya thinks her father is dead?”
Mom looked away.
I had never been told he was dead.
Not exactly.
Mom always said he was gone.
That he didn't want us.
That he'd chosen another life.
That asking about him would only hurt me.
Now those answers sounded different.
“Where is he?”
“Maya—”
“Where is my dad?”
“Please.”
“WHERE IS HE?”
Deputy Collins held up the envelope.
“Ms. Valerie, what is this?”
Mom stared at me.
“He filed for custody.”
The words didn't make sense.
“What?”
“Your father filed for custody three months ago.”
Derek stepped backward.
“You knew where he was?”
“He abandoned us.”
“He filed for custody.”
“That doesn't mean anything.”
“Where does he live?”
She hesitated.
“Seattle.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Seattle.
Not missing.
Not gone.
Seattle.
“Does he know where I live?”
Mom said nothing.
Elena asked, “Did you inform him about the move?”
“No.”
“Did you inform the court?”
Silence.
“Was there a custody order?”
Mom closed her eyes.
That told me enough.
“What order?” Elena asked.
Mom didn't answer.
“What order?”
Finally, she whispered, “Supervised visitation.”
“With Dad?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“Did it happen?”
Mom didn't respond.
I already knew.
“No.”
My voice cracked.
“You stopped me from seeing him?”
“He would confuse you.”
“He's my father.”
“He left.”
“Then why did the court tell you to let me see him?”
Mom looked trapped.
For once, she had no ready answer.
Deputy Collins asked, “Were you ordered to facilitate visitation?”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what's best for my daughter.”
A strange laugh escaped me.
My mother had left me alone for thirty days.
Yet she still believed she knew what was best.
Sarah came toward me.
I let her hold me.
Elena stepped aside and made a phone call.
Derek sat down.
Mom remained on the porch.
Twenty minutes later, Elena returned.
“Maya.”
I wiped my face.
“What?”
“We spoke with the court.”
She looked at the envelope.
“The custody case isn't the only issue.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else?”
“A judge ordered your mother to provide records concerning money held for you.”
I stared at her.
“What money?”
Derek looked at Mom.
“You told me Maya had no inheritance.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Elena continued.
“There is an account in your name.”
I felt suddenly cold.
“How much?”
“We're still confirming the exact amount.”
“Tell me.”
Deputy Collins looked down at the court filing.
“The account was originally funded by your father and your grandmother.”
My father's mother.
A woman I barely remembered.
I could almost see her red sweater.
Her kitchen.
A plate of cookies cooling beside the stove.
Mom had told me she stopped asking about us after Dad left.
Apparently, that wasn't true either.
“How much was in it?”
Deputy Collins hesitated.
“The filing references a balance of roughly eighty-six thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
“Eighty-six thousand?”
Mom immediately spoke.
“It wasn't all hers.”
Derek turned toward her.
“Whose was it?”
“It's complicated.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don't understand the arrangement.”
I looked at my mother.
“Then explain it.”
She didn't.
Deputy Collins checked another page.
“The account was later increased by additional deposits.”
“From Dad?”
“Some.”
My throat tightened.
“So he was still putting money in?”
“Yes.”
Mom whispered, “That doesn't prove he cared.”
For the first time, I didn't automatically believe her.
Deputy Collins continued.
“The current balance is substantially lower.”
“How much lower?”
He looked toward Elena.
She nodded.
“Under six thousand dollars.”
I stared at my mother.
Ninety thousand dollars.
Almost gone.
I thought about the twenty-dollar bill she had left on the kitchen counter.
I thought about the sixty-four cents.
I thought about the empty refrigerator.
“What happened to the rest?”
Nobody answered.
Mom folded her arms.
“It was spent on legitimate expenses.”
“What expenses?”
“Housing. Food. Education.”
I looked down at my backpack.
The zipper was still broken.
“My school is public.”
Silence.
“You told me braces were too expensive.”
Nothing.
“You told me I couldn't go to camp.”
Mom looked away.
Derek stared at her.
“What did you spend it on?”
Mom's voice suddenly rose.
“I deserved a life too.”
The room became completely still.
She seemed to realize what she had said.
Too late.
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“It means something.”
“No.”
Deputy Collins' phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
Then at the papers.
Then at my mother.
“We're going to need the bank records.”
Mom's face changed.
For the first time since she returned, she looked genuinely frightened.
Click here to continue reading: PART 4: The Account My Mother Said Was for My Future Had Lost Almost Everything, and the Records Were About to Tell Us Why
She Said I Was Staying With Friends, But By the Third Night I Realized I Was Completely Alone
Part 3 of 20
