Chapter 2: The Notebook He Found
“Vanessa?””
My father’s voice echoed through the downstairs hallway.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t move.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the backpack beside my desk.
The notebook was inside.
The only proof I had.
The only thing that could finally make someone believe me.
Then I heard Vanessa’s footsteps.
Fast.
Controlled.
She was already changing the story.
That was what she did best.
I opened my bedroom door just enough to look outside.
From the top of the stairs, I could see my father standing near the entrance with his suitcase still in his hand.
David Carter.
My dad.
He looked tired from traveling, but he was smiling.
A smile I hadn’t seen in weeks.
“Surprise,” he said.
“The meeting ended early.””
Vanessa walked toward him with a bright expression.
“Oh my goodness. You scared me.””
She wrapped her arms around him.
He kissed her forehead.
“I missed you.””
“I missed you too.””
The words sounded normal.
Warm.
Like a family reunion.
But I knew something my father didn’t.
I knew that behind that smile was someone who had spent months making me feel invisible.
Dad looked around.
“Where are the kids?””
“Upstairs,” Vanessa said quickly.
“They’re probably getting ready for bed.””
He glanced toward the stairs.
Then he saw me.
His smile widened.
“Ethan.””
I froze.
“Hey, Dad.””
He opened his arms slightly.
“Come here.””
I wanted to run down.
I wanted to hug him.
I wanted to tell him everything before Vanessa had a chance to speak.
But my body didn’t move.
Because I had spent so long protecting myself that I forgot how to ask for help.
Dad noticed.
His expression changed.
“Are you okay?””
I looked at Vanessa.
She was watching me.
Waiting.
I swallowed.
“I’m fine.””
Dad frowned.
“You sure?””
Before I could answer, Vanessa stepped closer.
“He’s been having a difficult week.””
There it was.
The beginning of the story she always told.
Dad looked at her.
“What happened?””
Vanessa sighed like she was exhausted.
“Nothing serious. Ethan has just been acting out lately.””
My stomach dropped.
Dad looked back at me.
“Acting out?””
I opened my mouth.
But Vanessa spoke first.
“He’s been angry. Defiant. I think he’s struggling with everything.””
Everything.
That word.
She used it because it sounded reasonable.
Because nobody could argue with something vague.
Dad set down his suitcase.
“Ethan?””
I looked at him.
“I’m not—”
“He’s been through a lot,” Vanessa interrupted gently.
My hands tightened into fists.
I hated how she made cruelty sound like concern.
Dad rubbed his face.
He looked confused.
Not angry.
Not yet.
“Can we talk about this?””
Vanessa smiled.
“Of course.””
Then she looked at me.
“But maybe Ethan should apologize first.””
My chest tightened.
“For what?””
Her eyebrows lifted.
“There it is.””
Dad looked between us.
“Ethan.””
“I didn’t do anything.””
Vanessa gave a small disappointed sigh.
“See?””
I wanted to scream.
But I didn’t.
Because every time I defended myself, she turned it into proof that I was difficult.
Dad looked tired.
Not because he didn’t care.
Because he didn’t understand.
And that hurt almost more.
“Everyone needs to calm down,” Dad said.
Then he looked at me.
“Go finish your homework. We’ll talk later.””
Later.
That word had become dangerous.
Later meant never.
Later meant the moment disappeared.
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
I turned around.
As I walked upstairs, I heard Vanessa whisper something.
“She’s right.””
No.
Not she.
Vanessa.
But my father didn’t know the difference.
I closed my bedroom door.
My hands were shaking.
For years, I had imagined this moment differently.
I imagined Dad walking in and immediately knowing.
I imagined him seeing the empty plates.
I imagined Vanessa finally being exposed.
But reality wasn’t like that.
Reality gave Vanessa a few seconds.
And she used them perfectly.
I grabbed my backpack.
The notebook was still inside.
I almost took it downstairs.
Almost.
Then I stopped.
A thought entered my mind.
What if Dad believed her again?
What if Vanessa found a way to make the notebook disappear?
I had seen what she could do.
I needed the right moment.
I needed him to see.
Not just hear.
Not just choose sides.
See.
About twenty minutes later, I heard voices downstairs.
I quietly opened my door.
Dad and Vanessa were in the kitchen.
“I don’t like hearing that he’s struggling,” Dad said.
“I know,” Vanessa replied.
Her voice sounded soft.
Almost sad.
“But I’m trying.””
I stepped closer.
“He doesn’t like me.””
Dad sighed.
“That’s not true.””
“I think he blames me for his mother.””
Silence.
That sentence hit me like a punch.
My mother had died when I was six.
Vanessa knew exactly which wounds to touch.
Dad’s voice became softer.
“Vanessa, don’t say that.””
“I’m just being honest.””
“You’ve been good to him.””
“I try.””
Another pause.
Then Vanessa said something that made my blood run cold.
“I just don’t know how much longer I can handle him.””
I backed away.
Because I knew what she was doing.
She was preparing Dad.
Preparing him to see me as a burden.
Preparing him to believe anything that came next.
That night, dinner was different.
Dad sat at the table.
For the first time in months, I was there too.
Vanessa placed food in front of everyone.
Noah and Lily got large portions.
Mine was smaller.
Much smaller.
Dad noticed.
“Is that enough?””
I looked at my plate.
Before I could answer, Vanessa spoke.
“Ethan doesn’t eat much.””
I looked at her.
That wasn’t true.
Dad looked at me.
“You don’t?””
I hesitated.
“No.””
My father watched me carefully.
Something in his face changed.
Maybe he remembered the boy who used to eat two sandwiches after soccer practice.
Maybe he noticed how thin my arms had become.
Vanessa quickly changed the subject.
“How was your flight?””
Dad answered.
But his eyes stayed on me.
I barely touched my food.
Not because I wasn’t hungry.
Because I was afraid.
Afraid that if I ate too quickly, Vanessa would accuse me of being greedy.
Afraid that if I asked for more, she would punish me later.
After dinner, Dad walked into the living room.
I stayed behind.
I was carrying my plate to the kitchen when Vanessa blocked my path.
Her smile was gone.
“You’re making things difficult.””
I looked at her.
“Dad is home.””
“Yes.””
She stepped closer.
“And you’re already trying to turn him against me.””
“I’m not.””
“Then why are you acting strange?””
I stared at her.
“Because I’m tired.””
For a moment, she looked surprised.
Then she laughed quietly.
“Tired?””
She leaned closer.
“You have no idea what tired is.””
I looked past her.
At the living room.
At my father sitting on the couch.
So close.
Yet somehow so far away.
Vanessa followed my eyes.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Be careful, Ethan.””
A chill went through me.
“About what?””
“About making your father choose.””
I whispered, “Maybe he should know the truth.””
Her expression changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Again.
Then she smiled.
“Truth?””
She looked toward Dad.
“Be careful what you think is true.””
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about the phone call.
The words she said.
Once Ethan is gone, everything will be easier.
Gone.
What did that mean?
At 2:00 a.m., I heard footsteps outside my room.
I held my breath.
The door handle moved.
Slowly.
The door opened a few inches.
Vanessa stood there.
Holding something.
My notebook.
My heart stopped.
I sat up.
“Where did you get that?””
She smiled.
A cold, calm smile.
“The same place you thought I wouldn’t look.””
I jumped out of bed.
“Give it back.””
She held it behind her.
“You really thought this would save you?””
I moved toward her.
“That’s mine.””
She flipped through the pages.
Reading my words.
My private thoughts.
My fear.
“You wrote all of this?””
I didn’t answer.
She looked at the pages.
Then she stopped.
Her face changed.
Not because of what I wrote.
Because of something else.
Something at the end.
She stared at the final page.
The page where I had written the name I heard during her phone call.
The name of the man she said would pay her if I disappeared.
Vanessa slowly looked up at me.
And for the first time, she looked genuinely afraid.
“What did you hear?”” she whispered.
I stepped back.
Because I realized something.
She wasn’t scared that Dad would read my notebook.
She was scared that I knew about him.
Then my father’s voice came from behind us.
“What is going on in here?””
Vanessa turned around.
The notebook slipped slightly in her hand.
Dad stood in the doorway.
Looking from her face…
to the pages…
to me.
May you like
And then he asked the question that changed everything.
“Vanessa… why do you have Ethan’s journal?””
