Chapter 5 - The Lunchbox
Marcus stared into the trash until the room blurred at the edges.
Nia made a sound behind him. Small. Humiliated.
“That was Mom’s,” she said.
Her mother, Alicia, had died four years earlier.
The lunchbox was cheap purple fabric, faded at the corners, with a tiny silver star Alicia had sewn near the zipper after Nia complained every kid at school had the same bag.
Marcus had offered to replace it a dozen times.
Nia always refused.
He reached into the trash and lifted both halves out.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “It’s gross.”
“I don’t care.”
A key turned in the front door.
Simone stepped inside carrying shopping bags.
She stopped when she saw him holding the lunchbox.
For one second, nobody moved.
Then Marcus asked, “Why?”
Simone set the bags down.
“It was filthy.”
“You cut it.”
“It was falling apart.”
“You cut it in half.”
“I was going to buy her a new one.”
Nia began crying.
Simone’s expression hardened. “See? This. Every single thing becomes a tragedy.”
Marcus felt his pulse in his jaw.
“Go upstairs,” he told the kids.
“No,” Simone said. “They stay. If you’re going to accuse me, do it in front of them.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Fine.”
He held up the ruined lunchbox.
“You took food from Nia. You told her she had to earn dinner. You disabled the camera during the hours she was alone with you. You told her not to tell me. And now you destroyed something her dead mother gave her.”
Simone’s face flickered.
Not guilt.
Resentment.
“She worships a ghost.”
The room went silent.
Marcus took one step toward her.
“What did you say?”
“She treats me like I’m temporary because Alicia gets to stay perfect forever.”
“Nia is a child grieving her mother.”
“And I’m the one raising her.”
“You are not allowed to punish her for loving Alicia.”
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you cut the lunchbox?”
Simone’s eyes flashed. “Because I am tired of living in another woman’s house.”
Marcus stared at her.
The house had never belonged to Alicia. Marcus bought it two years after her death.
But he understood what Simone meant.
Not the building.
His daughter.
His memories.
His life before her.
He picked up his phone.
“I want you to pack a bag and stay with your sister tonight.”
Simone laughed.
“You’re kicking me out?”
“I’m asking you to give us space.”
“This is my home too.”
“Then I’ll take Nia and go.”
Caleb appeared halfway down the stairs.
“What about me?”
Marcus froze.
Simone looked at her son.
Then at Marcus.
And she smiled.
Not warmly.
May you like
Like she had just found leverage.
“Exactly,” she said.
