Chapter 3

The next afternoon, I went back to pick up Mom's picture.

The moment the front door swung open, I froze. A new framed picture hung on the hallway wall.

It was a photo of Dad and Vanessa.

Dad looked completely relaxed, his arm draped casually across her shoulder.

The photo of Mom and me had been shoved onto the bottom shelf of the shoe cabinet, turned facedown.

I stood rooted to the floor.

Vanessa walked out of the kitchen, holding the ceramic mug Mom always used.

"Mia, you're back?"

Her smile was effortless.

As if she had always lived here.

The cushions on the couch had been swapped out for neutral linen ones. Mom's soft knitted throw blanket was gone.

On the fridge, every single note Mom and I had ever written together had been stripped clean.

In their place was a fresh shopping list, neatly detailing all of Vanessa's favorite groceries.

Dad was slicing an apple at the island.

Seeing me, he picked out the sweetest slice and held it toward me.

"Here."

I didn't take it.

Vanessa took a sip from Mom's mug and offered a casual, innocent explanation:

"Richard hasn't been in a good headspace lately. It's really not safe for him to be alone right now."

"As his company's wellness consultant, it's my duty to help employees process high-stress emotions."

"I'm just staying over for a few days to keep him company."

Eleanor glared at Dad with pure disgust.

Dad kept coring the apple.

"What's the big deal if she crashes here for a few days?"

"She'll leave soon enough."

"Or you two can just tell Clara to get her ass back home."

Eleanor sneered.

"Your wife has been dead for three days, and you moved another woman into her house. You call that 'no big deal'?"

Dad slammed the pairing knife onto the marble counter.

"Here we go again."

"Do you honestly think if you keep chanting that she's dead, I'll eventually buy it?"

"Where's the death certificate? Where's the body?"

Eleanor pointed toward the door.

"If you want to see it, go to the hospital yourself!"

Dad's face darkened further.

"Why should I go?"

"Aren't you two just waiting for me to go there and crawl at her feet?"

Vanessa quickly grabbed his arm.

"Richard, please don't fight."

She turned to smile at us, her tone dripping with gentle innocence.

"You're already so stressed, don't raise your blood pressure."

"If Clara comes back today, I'll pack my bags and head straight to a hotel."

She was wearing Mom's slippers.

Her designer clothes were already hung up inside Mom's closet.

Dad nodded approvingly at her.

"See that?"

"Vanessa has basic decency. You two don't."

I walked over to the shoe cabinet and opened the bottom drawer.

The frame lay facedown under a thin film of dust.

In the photo, Mom was smiling brightly, her hand resting warmly on my shoulder.

I picked it up and carefully wiped away the dust with my sleeve.

Dad glanced over.

"It's just a photo."

"Take it if you want it so badly."

As he spoke, he topped off Vanessa's glass of water.

Whenever Mom sat there, he used to do the exact same thing.

The motion hadn't changed.

Only the person had.

Mom's wedding ring lay on the master bedroom nightstand.

Dad walked over, picked it up, and rubbed the gold band with his thumb.

For a second, I thought he felt a pang of guilt.

He stared at it for two seconds, then tossed it back onto the wood.

"Tell your mom I'm still keeping it here for her."

"If she doesn't come home soon, I'm taking mine off for good."

Vanessa leaned against the bedroom doorframe, giggling softly.

"Clara would never let you go."

Dad chuckled, too.

"She can't live without me."

Eleanor turned around and stormed out in sheer revulsion.

I clutched the framed photo and followed.

At the door, Dad called out behind me:

"Mia."

"If you keep helping your grandmother lie to me, I'm going to be seriously disappointed in you."

I stopped and looked back at him.

"I'm not lying."

"Mom is really dead."

That was the third time I had spoken those exact words to him.

The smirk on Dad's face flickered.

Just for a fraction of a second.

"Fine."

"When she finally crawls out of hiding, let's see how you two explain this away."

I didn't answer.

When you tell someone the absolute truth three times, it's no longer your job to convince them.