Chapter 3 - The Girl by the Bounce House
The grass felt too loud under my shoes. Every step toward Brook had kicked up that cut-grass smell, and the party had gone quiet in the way a backyard does when adults stop pretending they're not listening. Emma's hand was sweating in mine. Behind Brook, the bounce house sagged and breathed, red and yellow and blue, its fan humming steady.
I didn't look at Brook first. I looked past her.
Near the mesh side of the bounce house stood a girl in a bright pink dress. Maya. She wasn't bouncing or laughing like the other kids. She was just standing there with her arms crossed tight over her stomach, staring straight at Emma. When my eyes found her, she jerked her gaze away fast, down at her white sneakers.
Emma felt it before I said anything. Her fingers tightened around mine until my knuckles ached.
"Daddy," she whispered. Not the line from before. Just that. A small pull on my hand, her shoulder pressing into my leg.
I kept my eyes on Maya. She glanced back up again, like she couldn't help it. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line. She looked scared, not mean. I'd seen that look on Emma's face that spring at school pick-up when a bigger boy had knocked over her juice and she'd been afraid to tell the teacher.
Brook was still talking, something about Sophie crying inside by the brick steps, about how we needed to handle this now. I heard the words but I didn't turn. The two older men by the folding chairs had stopped mid-sip of their sodas. The pink and white balloons by the cake table shifted in a light wind.
I crouched down a little, keeping hold of Emma's hand, so my voice wouldn't carry.
"You know her?" I asked Emma quietly.
She nodded against my pants, her ponytail brushing my wrist. "Maya," she said. "She was by the cake."
My chest tightened. I didn't push her for more. She was already breathing too fast.
I straightened up and looked at Brook. "Give us a minute," I said. Low, not a challenge this time.
Brook frowned. "Daniel, don't—"
"Just a minute," I said.
I walked Emma sideways across the grass, not away from everyone, just angled toward the bounce house. I tried to make it look casual, like a dad getting his kid out of the sun. The vinyl smelled hot and plasticky as we got close. A couple of kids tumbled out laughing, and the whole structure shuddered.
Maya saw us coming. She took a half-step back, her heel hitting the staked tether.
I stopped a good ten feet away. I didn't want to crowd her. I kept Emma beside me, my hand resting light on her shoulder now.
"Hey, Maya," I said, keeping my voice even. "You having fun before all this grown-up stuff started?"
She didn't answer. She looked at Emma, then at me, then toward the white folding chairs where her mom was standing with a paper plate in her hand. Her mom wasn't watching us yet. She was watching Brook.
"It's okay," I said. "I'm not mad at anybody. I just want to figure out what happened to Sophie's cake."
Maya's arms squeezed tighter around herself. Her eyes went shiny. She opened her mouth, then closed it.
Emma shifted. "Maya saw," she said softly, hopeful in a way that broke me. She looked up at Maya like Maya was a life raft.
Maya shook her head quickly, almost a flinch. Not a no-that's-not-true. A don't-put-that-on-me.
"I didn't—" she started, her voice tiny. Then she looked past me at Brook, who had taken two steps closer, arms crossed in that coral top, white pants bright against the green grass.
That was enough. Maya turned and ran.
She didn't run far. Just to the row of white folding chairs, ducking behind the second one, hands gripping the metal back so hard her fingers went white. Her mom put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to ask her something I couldn't hear. Maya shook her head and stared at the ground.
Emma's hand went limp in mine, then gripped again, harder this time. Disappointment rolled off her in a wave.
May you like
I stood there with the bounce house fan blowing hot air against my khakis and watched Maya hide. She'd been staring because she knew something. And she was scared to say it in front of everybody.
I squeezed Emma's shoulder. "It's okay, baby," I murmured, though it wasn't, not yet. "I saw her too."
