Chapter 2: The Rules Nicole Made
My father unfolded the paper slowly.
I watched every movement.
Every second.
Every breath.
Because I knew the words on that page.
I had read them so many times that I didn’t need to see them anymore.
They were burned into my memory.
Nicole’s handwriting filled the paper.
*Maya’s House Rules.*
Dad read the first line.
“Rule one…”
His voice became quieter.
“No complaining.””
He looked at me.
I looked at the floor.
He kept reading.
“Rule two. No asking for extra food.””
His fingers tightened around the paper.
“Rule three. No telling Marcus about what happens in this house.””
Nicole stepped forward.
“Marcus, you’re misunderstanding.””
He didn’t look at her.
“Am I?””
She crossed her arms.
“She’s a teenager. She’s dramatic.””
Dad finally turned.
“Did you write this?””
Nicole hesitated.
That hesitation answered everything.
“Yes,” she said.
Then she shrugged.
“Because she needs discipline.””
I felt something inside me break.
Discipline.
That was the word she always used.
When she took away my breakfast.
Discipline.
When she made me stand in the kitchen for hours because I dropped a glass.
Discipline.
When she told me I was lucky she was willing to raise someone else’s child.
Dad stared at her.
“You wrote a rule telling my daughter not to talk to me?””
“She twists things.””
“I asked if you wrote it.””
Nicole looked annoyed.
“Yes.””
Jordan moved closer to me.
He grabbed my hand.
Dad noticed.
“Maya.””
I looked up.
“Is this true?””
My mouth opened.
Then closed.
Because the truth was dangerous.
But for the first time, Nicole wasn’t standing beside me whispering threats.
For the first time, Dad was there.
So I nodded.
A small movement.
But he saw it.
“What else?””
Nicole laughed.
“Oh, come on.””
Dad ignored her.
“Maya, what else?””
I wiped my eyes.
“She said I was too expensive.””
The room froze.
Dad looked confused.
“What?””
I stared at my feet.
“She said after Mom died, she didn’t have to spend so much money on me.””
Nicole’s face hardened.
“That is not what I said.””
“Yes, it is.””
My voice shook.
“You said Dad only kept me because he felt guilty.””
Dad looked at Nicole.
“That’s enough.””
“No, Marcus, she’s lying.””
“I heard enough.””
Nicole stepped closer.
“You have no idea how difficult it is taking care of a teenager.””
Dad’s expression changed.
“I work to provide for this family.””
“And I’m the one here all day.””
She pointed toward me.
“Do you know how exhausting she can be?””
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I couldn’t believe she was saying it.
The person who never asked how my day was.
The person who didn’t notice when I stopped wearing my favorite jeans because they became too loose.
The person who ignored me when I said I felt dizzy.
She was calling me exhausting.
Dad looked at me.
“When did you last eat a full meal?””
I didn’t answer.
That was enough.
His face fell.
“God.””
Nicole shook her head.
“You’re making a mistake.””
Dad stepped closer.
“No. I made a mistake by believing you.””
Nobody spoke.
Even Nicole seemed surprised.
Because Marcus was usually calm.
He was the person who fixed problems quietly.
The person who hated conflict.
But that night, something changed.
He walked downstairs.
He opened the refrigerator.
Then the cabinets.
Then the pantry.
And I followed.
I didn’t know why.
Maybe because some part of me needed him to see.
Needed him to understand.
The refrigerator was almost empty.
There were groceries.
But most of them were things Nicole liked.
Expensive drinks.
Special desserts.
Food labeled with her name.
My father opened a drawer.
Inside were several unopened lunch containers.
“Maya,” he said slowly.
I walked closer.
They were mine.
My name was written on them.
I touched one.
“When did you make these?””
Nicole answered.
“Last week.””
Dad looked at her.
“Then why didn’t she eat them?””
Silence.
That was the first time Nicole had no answer.
Jordan looked up.
“Because Mommy said Maya didn’t deserve treats.””
Dad closed his eyes.
I saw the pain on his face.
And somehow, that hurt worse than everything else.
Because I realized my father had been in this house.
He had slept under the same roof.
He had kissed me goodbye every morning.
And he never knew.
The next morning, Dad called me into the kitchen.
There was a bag on the counter.
Inside were groceries.
Snacks.
My favorite cereal.
Fresh fruit.
Everything I had stopped asking for.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I looked at him.
“For what?””
He swallowed.
“For not noticing.””
I wanted to say it wasn’t his fault.
But I couldn’t.
Because I had spent months hoping someone would notice.
Before I could answer, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“What?””
A pause.
Then:
“No. That’s impossible.””
He looked at me.
“Maya… did Nicole ever tell you why she really came into our lives?””
I froze.
Because I suddenly realized something.
Nicole had never liked me.
May you like
Not from the beginning.
And now my father had just heard something that made him question why.
