Chapter 4
Nathan’s recorded voice sounded different when he believed I was hundreds of miles away.
Confident.
“Caleb is exactly like Vincent.”
My mother answered.
“That is why this has to happen before the child comes.”
My breathing changed.
Vincent Vance.
My father.
Dead nine years.
Nathan laughed on the recording.
“He chose his wife too.”
Evelyn’s voice became colder.
“And look what it cost him.”
Maya paused the recorder.
I looked at my mother.
“What did it cost him?”
Evelyn crossed her arms.
“Your father died.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t make old grief into a new conspiracy.”
Nathan suddenly became interested in the table.
I saw it.
Maya did too.
“What happened to my father?”
My mother’s face hardened.
“He became careless.”
“How?”
“He stopped listening.”
Same language.
Maya whispered beside me, “That’s what she said about you.”
Evelyn turned on her.
“You have no place in this conversation.”
Maya’s shoulders tightened.
My mother smiled.
“You spent three days in a shed and still think carrying his child makes you important.”
I felt anger rise.
Maya beat me to the answer.
“No.”
Her voice shook, but she kept going.
“Surviving you made me important enough.”
Evelyn stared.
I looked at Maya.
Then at the recorder.
“Play it.”
The next recording began with chairs moving.
Uncle Martin’s voice.
“What if Caleb finds out what happened to Vincent?”
Silence filled the dining room.
Martin closed his eyes.
The recorded Evelyn answered.
“He hasn’t in nine years.”
Nathan:
“Because everyone agreed.”
Another voice.
Aunt Celeste’s husband, Paul.
“Not everyone.”
My mother replied.
“Enough people.”
I stopped the recording.
The seven relatives who remained were no longer seven relatives.
They were witnesses.
Maybe participants.
Martin stood.
“I didn’t know they would lock Maya up.”
I looked at him.
“But you knew about my father.”
His face collapsed.
“Yes.”
Maya reached for my hand beneath the table.
That small touch kept me seated.
I stared at the people I had called family for most of my life.
“What happened to Vincent Vance?”
Nobody answered.
Then Martin whispered:
“Your father didn’t die because his heart failed.”
May you like
My mother shut her eyes.
“He died because the family decided he had become too difficult to control.”
