Chapter 9 - The Good Daughter
Mia had not escaped Vanessa's manipulation.
She had simply been given a different role.
Grace was the problem child.
Mia was the good daughter.
Vanessa praised Mia whenever she stayed quiet.
She bought her new clothes.
She allowed her extra screen time.
She invited her to the dining table when Grace was sent away.
At first Mia enjoyed the attention.
That was the part she hated admitting.
“I thought she liked me more because I was better,” Mia told the family therapist.
Marcus sat nearby but did not interrupt.
Mia twisted a tissue between her fingers.
“She said Grace caused fights. She said if Grace would just behave, everything would be normal.”
“When did you stop believing that?” the therapist asked.
Mia looked at her sister.
“When I saw her lock the door.”
Grace stared down.
Mia's voice broke.
“I heard Grace crying.”
“What did you do?”
“I asked Vanessa to let her out.”
“And?”
“She said if I kept interfering, I could go in too.”
Marcus's chest tightened.
Mia continued.
“That was when I started taking pictures.”
The first photograph had been blurry.
Vanessa's hand holding Grace's plate.
The second clearer.
By the tenth, Mia had developed a system.
She kept the burgundy phone on silent.
She turned off flash.
She photographed clocks and calendars whenever possible.
Sometimes she recorded short video clips.
She hid the phone beneath a loose floorboard inside her closet whenever Marcus traveled.
“Why didn't Vanessa find it?” Marcus asked later.
Mia looked embarrassed.
“She thought I loved her.”
That answer silenced him.
Mia had survived by pretending.
Now she felt guilty for surviving differently than Grace.
Marcus sat between both girls.
“What Vanessa did to Grace was Vanessa's decision.”
Mia cried.
“I ate the food.”
“What?”
“When Grace was in the kitchen, I stayed at the table.”
“You were a child.”
“I should've left.”
Grace finally spoke.
“I wanted you to stay.”
Mia looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because then she'd only be mad at one of us.”
The therapist turned away briefly, giving herself a second.
Marcus covered his eyes.
His daughters had developed strategies for protecting each other inside his home while he discussed quarterly projections in hotel conference rooms.
That night, Mia asked for the burgundy phone back.
Investigators had finished making a forensic copy.
Marcus handed it to her.
She turned it over.
“I hate this thing.”
“You don't have to keep it.”
She thought for a moment.
Then she placed it in a drawer.
“I want to.”
“Why?”
“Because Grace told the truth before there were pictures.”
Marcus looked at her.
Mia continued.
“The pictures just made adults listen.”
Her words stayed with him.
Evidence was important.
But his daughter should never have needed seventy-three photographs before her pain became believable.
The next morning Allison called.
Damon Price had been located.
May you like
And according to his lawyer, he was willing to cooperate.
Against Vanessa.
