Chapter 3 - The Missing Hours
“Give me your phone.”
Simone stopped halfway up the stairs.
She turned slowly. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“You don’t get to demand my phone because a camera glitched.”
“It didn’t glitch. Someone turned it off.”
“So call the security company.”
“I will.”
“Great.”
She started upstairs again.
Marcus stepped in front of her.
“Why every weekday?”
Her eyes sharpened. “Move.”
“Why from three fifteen to six forty-five?”
“I said move.”
Nia’s bedroom door opened at the top of the stairs.
Marcus saw one eye, then half her face.
He lowered his voice.
“Kids, back in your rooms.”
The door closed.
Simone leaned closer. “You are making them afraid.”
“No. I’m noticing they already are.”
That landed.
She looked away first.
Marcus did not take her phone. He wanted to. Instead, he did something colder.
He called the security company.
Twenty minutes later, a technician confirmed the camera had been disabled manually from an authorized household device.
“Can you tell which one?”
“Yes, sir. Device nickname: Simone-iPhone.”
Simone was standing six feet away when the words came through the speaker.
Marcus thanked the technician and hung up.
She shook her head. “I turn it off because I hate being watched in my own kitchen.”
“Only when Nia gets home?”
“I’m busy then.”
“Doing what?”
“Running this family.”
Marcus felt the anger rise again.
He walked to the hall closet and took out his overnight bag.
Simone laughed bitterly. “So that’s it? You’re leaving?”
“No.”
He carried the bag upstairs.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room.”
Her laugh disappeared.
“And tomorrow I’m taking Nia and Caleb to school myself.”
“You always do drop-off on Fridays.”
“I’m also picking them up.”
Simone’s face tightened. “I have plans.”
“Then make different ones.”
At 6:40 the next morning, Marcus found Nia already dressed and sitting on the edge of her bed with her backpack on.
Too early.
Too ready.
Like she had been waiting for rescue.
In the car, Caleb chattered nervously about a science project. Nia said almost nothing.
At a red light, Marcus looked in the rearview mirror.
“Baby, I need you to tell me the truth. Even if you think it’ll make things worse.”
Nia’s eyes met his in the mirror.
“She says you’ll choose her.”
Marcus gripped the steering wheel.
“Who says that?”
Nia’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Simone.”
Then she reached into the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
“There’s something else.”
Marcus took it at the next stoplight.
It was a list.
Rules.
Punishments.
Points.
May you like
At the bottom, in Simone’s handwriting, were four words that made his stomach turn.
Do not tell Dad.
