Chapter 2: What Nia Heard
Nia Reed had heard enough arguments in her life to know when not to interrupt one.
She stood barefoot behind the mudroom door, one hand pressed against her mouth.
She had come downstairs because she heard her father’s voice.
At first, she thought he had finally seen the car.
Then she heard Vanessa explain why.
Jasmine deserves a better car.
Nia closed her eyes.
That sentence hurt more than losing the Honda.
Maybe because the Honda had never really been about transportation.
Her mother, Alicia, died when Nia was eleven.
For six years, Nia had lived with the fear that every good memory of her mother would become weaker with time.
The smell of her perfume.
The way she sang while cooking.
How she called Nia “Peanut” when nobody else was around.
Marcus had done everything he could to raise his daughter alone.
Then Vanessa came into their lives.
In the beginning, Nia wanted to love her.
She really did.
Vanessa was funny then.
Warm.
She helped Nia choose her dress for eighth-grade promotion.
She learned how to braid the front of Nia’s hair even though her fingers cramped halfway through.
When Marcus proposed, Nia had been happy because her father looked alive again.
But little things changed after the wedding.
Never enough to accuse Vanessa of anything.
Only enough to make Nia wonder whether she was imagining them.
Jasmine always got first choice.
Jasmine’s mistakes were “stress.””
Nia’s mistakes were “attitude.””
If Jasmine left dishes in the sink, she had been studying.
If Nia did it, she was disrespectful.
When both girls asked for money, Jasmine received it.
Nia was told to learn responsibility.
Marcus rarely saw the difference because Vanessa was careful.
And Nia never wanted to be the reason her father lost another woman he loved.
So she kept quiet.
Even when it hurt.
Especially when it hurt.
Now she heard her father say, “If this isn’t fixed by tomorrow evening, the person leaving that house will be you.””
Nia stepped backward from the door.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
She hurried upstairs before either adult came inside.
Five minutes later, she was sitting on the edge of her bed when somebody knocked.
“Nia?””
It was Jasmine.
Nia quickly wiped her face.
“Come in.””
Jasmine entered wearing black leggings and a Hampton University sweatshirt.
In her hand were the keys to the SUV.
She looked uncomfortable.
“Dad saw the cars?””
Nia gave a humorless laugh.
“You heard him yelling.””
“Basically the whole neighborhood heard him.””
Jasmine sat beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Nia glanced at the keys.
“Nice ride.””
Jasmine’s face tightened.
“Don’t.””
“Don’t what?””
“Act like I planned this.””
Nia turned toward her.
“Did you know she sold my car?””
Jasmine’s silence lasted one second too long.
That was enough.
Nia stood.
“You knew?””
“I knew she was trading some stuff around.””
“My car is not stuff.””
“I know.””
“No, you clearly don’t.””
“Nia—”
“You watched me save for that car.””
“I didn’t know she used your money.””
“You knew it was mine!””
Jasmine stood too.
“I told her it was messed up.””
“But you kept the SUV.””
“What was I supposed to do?””
Nia laughed bitterly.
“Maybe not accept a forty-thousand-dollar car bought with money from mine?””
Jasmine’s eyes flashed.
“I didn’t ask her to sell your car.””
“But you didn’t exactly refuse the keys.””
“That’s easy for you to say.””
Nia stared at her.
“What does that mean?””
Jasmine immediately looked away.
“Nothing.””
“No. Say it.””
Jasmine crossed her arms.
“You’ve always had Dad.””
The words landed strangely.
Nia frowned.
“What?””
“You’ve always had somebody who shows up for you. Every school event. Every appointment.
Every birthday. Everything.””
“So that means you get my car?””
“I didn’t say that.””
“Then what are you saying?””
Jasmine’s voice cracked.
“I’m saying maybe when somebody finally does something big for me, I don’t immediately think about giving it away.””
Nia’s anger faltered.
She knew Jasmine’s biological father, Terrence, was mostly absent.
Birthday texts.
Broken promises.
Occasional money transfers followed by months of silence.
But Nia also knew Marcus had spent four years trying to fill those empty spaces.
“You think my dad hasn’t shown up for you?””
Jasmine looked down.
“He has.””
“Then why do you let your mom treat me like I’m taking something from you?””
Jasmine said nothing.
That silence told Nia more than she wanted to know.
Downstairs, a door slammed.
Then Vanessa called, “Jasmine!””
Jasmine wiped quickly beneath one eye.
“I have to go.””
Nia watched her reach the doorway.
“Jasmine.””
She paused.
“Did your mom ever tell you why she hated that Honda so much?””
Jasmine froze.
Slowly, she turned.
“What are you talking about?””
Nia studied her face.
Something was there.
Fear.
Or guilt.
“I heard her arguing with someone on the phone two weeks ago,” Nia said.
“She said, ‘Once that car is gone, the money problem is handled.’”
Jasmine’s expression drained of color.
“Nia, are you sure?””
“Yes.””
Before Jasmine could answer, Vanessa called again.
This time louder.
“Jasmine!””
Jasmine left.
Nia sat back down and looked toward the framed photograph on her nightstand.
Her mother smiled from behind the glass.
Nia whispered, “I should’ve told Dad sooner.””
A moment later, her bedroom door opened again.
Marcus stood there.
His tie was loosened.
His eyes looked tired.
“Nia.””
She straightened.
“Hey, Dad.””
He looked around the room, then at her.
“How much did you hear?””
Nia swallowed.
“Enough.””
Marcus sat beside her.
“I’m getting your car back.””
“What if you can’t?””
“Then I’ll replace it.””
“That’s not really what I mean.””
Marcus frowned.
Nia looked toward the hallway.
“Dad… the car isn’t the only thing.””
His face changed.
“What are you saying?””
Nia took a breath.
For six years, she had protected her father from uncomfortable truths because she was afraid happiness might leave him again.
Now she realized silence had protected the wrong person.
“There are things Vanessa has done when you weren’t around.””
Marcus went very still.
“What things?””
May you like
Nia looked him directly in the eye.
And downstairs, unnoticed by either of them, Vanessa stood at the bottom of the staircase listening.
