Chapter 11
I didn't move after my dad set the receipt down on the coffee table. It was white and thin, the ink a little faded on one corner where Tara's purse had pressed against it. The total was circled in her handwriting. Fifty dollars cash back. The hardwood floor was cold through my socks and I could hear the air conditioning kick on above the pendant light.
Tara looked at it and then looked away, like it didn't mean what it meant. Her arms were crossed over her black shirt and her gold necklace caught the daylight from the window.
"That doesn't prove I didn't have the money after," she said. Her voice was flat and controlled. "I had it in my purse when I got home. I counted it."
My dad didn't pick the receipt back up. He kept his hands on his knees where he was crouched next to the couch. He'd been between us since the kitchen, not letting her stand over me.
"Tara," he said. "We already heard that part."
I pulled the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands. The ribbed cuffs stretched a little. I could hear my own breathing and I tried to make it quieter.
She took a step toward the hallway, then stopped. She didn't look at me when she said it.
"She can stay tonight," she said. "But I'm telling you, Marcus. If that money is not found, I want your daughter out of this house. I mean it. I won't live like this."
The words landed the same way they had the first time, but slower. Tonight. Not tomorrow. Tonight meant I was allowed to sleep in my room but only until we knew. I stared at the staircase behind her. My backpack was still by the banister where I'd dropped it after school. I hadn't taken my shoes upstairs yet.
My dad stood up. He was taller than her and he didn't raise his voice at all. That made it feel more serious.
"We're not doing that," he said. "I told you earlier, being the only person here doesn't prove she took it. It didn't prove it then and it doesn't prove it now. We're not putting her out on a maybe."
Tara's mouth tightened. "Then where is my money, Marcus? You keep saying that. Where is it?"
"I don't know yet," he said, same as before. "But we're going to find out before we accuse my daughter. That's what I told you and that's what we're doing. We're not trading one night for an eviction. She lives here."
I felt my eyes start to sting. I didn't want to cry again with her watching. I pressed my hands together inside my sweater and focused on the texture, the thick ribs at the neckline against my throat. My breathing got louder no matter how I tried to hold it. I could hear the small catch in my chest every time I inhaled.
Tara finally looked at me. Her expression didn't soften. "Maya, if you took it, you can just say so. No one is going to be mad if you're honest."
I shook my head before she finished. "I didn't take it," I whispered. My voice cracked. I had to swallow. "I didn't take your money."
My dad put his hand lightly on my shoulder. He didn't pull me to him, he just let it rest there so I knew he was there.
"She answered you," he said to Tara. "Don't do that."
There was a long quiet where the only sound was the AC and my breathing. The pendant light buzzed faintly. Tara exhaled through her nose and looked toward the front door, then back at the living room.
"Fine," she said after a second. "You want to keep searching, search. Check whatever you want. My purse, my coat, my car. But I'm not being called a liar in my own house."
My dad nodded once. "That's all I'm asking. We check everything. Yours, mine, the car, the whole living room again. Properly this time. Pockets and lining and everything inside the bag, not just looking on top."
"And after that?" Tara asked.
"After that we know," he said. "But Maya stays. Tonight and after that. Until we know for sure, she stays. No conditions about leaving."
He squeezed my shoulder a little and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It shook on the way out. Tara didn't agree out loud, but she didn't argue either. She uncrossed her arms and picked up her purse from the arm of the couch, holding it out toward him with a tight grip.
"Here," she said. "You do it. So you can't say I hid anything."
My dad took it gently. I watched his silver watch slide a little on his wrist. He looked down at me.
"You good to stay right here while I check?" he asked me.
I nodded. I pulled my sweater tighter around me even though the house wasn't cold. My tears stayed right behind my eyes, not falling yet.
May you like
"Okay," he said. "We're going to do this right."
Tara stood by the staircase with her arms crossed again, watching. The house felt very still, like everyone was waiting for what would be in the bottom of that purse.
