Chapter 1

The wine glass in front of my father caught the lamplight and threw it back onto the dark wood. He was mid-bite, his navy shirt collar open at the throat, his fork paused halfway to his plate. The white plate with the thin gold rim was blurred in front of him, and the woven placemat underneath it was exactly where it always was. Everything looked calm and practiced, the way our dinners always looked when she wanted them to.
That was the contradiction. I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe right, and my bunny was soaked where I'd pressed my face into it.
She sat across from him in her cream blouse with the high neck and the puffed sleeves, her dark hair parted perfectly in the middle, her hands folded beside her own wine glass like she was posing for something. She looked peak-composed, the perfect hostess, even as my shoulders shook and my tears kept coming. The warm light from the lamp on the sideboard made everything soft and yellow, and it made the whole room feel smaller.
I was four that night.
I remember the way the air smelled like roast chicken and the cleaner she used on the table. I remember the way the chair felt too big under me and how my feet didn't touch the floor. I had been holding it in for what felt like a long time, and then I couldn't anymore. My chest hurt. The bunny's pink nose was pressed against my cheek and its floppy ears were bunched in my fist.
"Daddy, she's lying, please believe me."
My voice came out smaller than I wanted it to and it cracked on the last word. I didn't mean to say it that loud but the quiet in the dining room made it loud anyway.
He turned to me so fast his chair scraped. His brows pulled together and his mouth opened.
"What happened? Tell me right now."
He wasn't angry at me. His voice was low and tight, and he leaned toward me over the table like he was trying to keep me from disappearing.
I swallowed and the tears made my throat sting.
"She took me into the laundry room."
The words hung there. I could hear the soft hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the tick of the wall clock behind him. I stared at the gold rim of my plate because I didn't want to look at her.
"What are you talking about?" she said.
Her voice was light and surprised, like I'd made a mistake. She let out a little breathy laugh and looked at my father with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open. She shook her head just a little, slowly, the way adults do when a child says something confusing.
My father looked between us. His hand was flat on the table now, fingers spread.
Then she spoke again, calmer, more certain, and she reached as if to adjust my placemat.
"She's confused. That's not what happened."
I felt my whole body go hot. That was the lie. I knew what confused felt like and this wasn't it. I remembered the laundry room door clicking shut and the cold tile under my socks. I remembered how long I'd stood there. I squeezed my bunny harder until my knuckles hurt.
"No, check the camera, Daddy."
I didn't know where that idea came from except that I'd seen the little black circle blinking in the hallway outside my room and Dad had once waved at it and told me it kept us safe. It was the only thing I could think of that wasn't just my word against hers.
He blinked.
"The camera?"
She moved then. She shifted in her chair and crossed her arms, and her perfect calm slipped for just a second. Her mouth tightened.
My father pushed his chair back. The legs dragged loud against the floor. He stood so abruptly his napkin fell off his lap onto the rug and he didn't pick it up. His shoulders were tense under his navy shirt and his breathing was audible.
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"Nobody move. I'm checking it right now."
He said it like an order, quiet but sharp, and he was already turning toward the hallway door at the edge of the dining room. His hand was out, fingers just short of the handle, his body angled away from the table. He didn't look back at her yet. She stayed seated, arms crossed now, mouth open to say something else, but she didn't stand. I stayed frozen in my too-big chair with my bunny crushed to my chest, waiting to see if he would actually open that door and look.