Chapter 5: My Father's Signature
For a moment, I couldn't make sense of what Principal Harris had said.
My father had been dead for three years.
I remembered his warm hands, his tired smile after long days at work, and the way he used to sit beside my bed when I was little and tell me that my mother loved me.
He had been the person who explained her disappearance.
He had been the person who told me she was never coming home.
And now his signature sat at the bottom of a statement connected to the night she vanished.
"No," I whispered.
Naomi turned toward me.
"Maya—"
"No. Dad wouldn't do that.""
My mother didn't argue.
That made it worse.
Vanessa hurried toward the table and reached for the paper.
"Give me that.""
Principal Harris pulled it away.
"Please don't touch the evidence.""
"Evidence?"" Vanessa snapped.
"It's a photocopy of a piece of paper! You have no idea where it came from.""
"Then we'll let the proper authorities examine it.""
She looked at me.
"Maya, listen to me. Your father loved you. He would never do anything to hurt you.""
I searched her face.
"Then why is his signature on that statement?""
"Because he was probably helping your mother. That's all this means.""
Naomi shook her head.
"No.""
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"You don't know that.""
"I know what the statement says.""
My mother turned the page toward Principal Harris.
He read it silently, his expression growing more troubled with every line.
"Could you tell us what happened?"" he asked.
Naomi looked around the auditorium.
Parents were still seated. Students had stopped whispering. Even the people standing near the entrance seemed afraid to move.
"I don't want to discuss the details in front of children," she said.
"But I will answer the questions I can.""
Principal Harris nodded.
"Of course.""
Vanessa let out a sharp breath.
"Finally, some common sense.""
Naomi continued before she could say anything else.
"But I need the school to preserve the security footage from today. I also need a record of the damage to Maya's artwork and the names of the adults who witnessed it.""
Vanessa stared at her.
"You're filing a complaint against me?""
"I'm documenting what happened.""
"You cannot threaten me in front of my own daughter.""
I flinched at the phrase.
My own daughter.
Naomi heard it too.
"She isn't your possession, Vanessa.""
"I raised her!""
"And I gave birth to her.""
"Where were you when she had nightmares? Where were you when she cried for you? Where were you when she needed someone to hold her hand at school?""
Vanessa's voice cracked with anger.
"I was there. I did everything.""
For a moment, the words struck me with the force of memories.
Vanessa had indeed been there.
She had attended my school plays. She had sat beside me when I had a fever. She had helped me choose my first formal dress.
But she had also thrown away my mother's letters whenever I found one hidden among my father's belongings. She had forbidden me from asking the neighbors about Naomi. She had once taken my paintbrushes away for a month because I painted my mother instead of a landscape.
Both things were true.
That was what made everything so confusing.
"You told me Mom abandoned us," I said.
Vanessa turned toward me.
"Because that's what I believed.""
"Then why did you smash her portrait?""
"Because I couldn't stand watching you hurt yourself over someone who wasn't coming back!""
"You could have talked to me!""
"I tried talking to you for years!""
"You told me to stop caring!""
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
"Sometimes caring about the past destroys the future.""
Naomi stepped forward.
"And sometimes hiding the past destroys a child's ability to trust anyone.""
Vanessa rounded on her.
"You don't know anything about the life I've built!""
"I know you were standing beside my damaged car the night I disappeared.""
"You don't know why I was there!""
The words escaped before Vanessa could stop them.
Silence fell.
Principal Harris slowly raised his head.
Naomi stared at her.
"You just admitted you were there.""
Vanessa's face went white.
"I meant—"
"You said you were standing beside the car.""
"I was talking hypothetically!""
"There's a photograph.""
Vanessa backed into the edge of the table.
Her handbag fell open, scattering a packet of tissues and a lipstick across the floor.
Nobody moved to help her.
I looked at her, remembering the way she had dismissed the photograph only minutes earlier.
"You knew it was real," I whispered.
Vanessa looked at me.
"Maya, you need to understand something. Your father asked me to take care of you.""
"What does that have to do with the car?""
She said nothing.
"Did Dad know Mom was alive?""
Her eyes filled with angry tears.
"Your father did what he thought was best for this family.""
"Did he know?""
Vanessa looked toward the entrance.
For a second, I thought she might run.
Instead, she straightened her dress and lifted her chin.
"Your father loved you more than anything in the world.""
"That's not an answer.""
"He wanted you to have a stable home.""
"That's not an answer either!""
My voice cracked so badly that the last word came out as a sob.
Naomi pulled me gently against her side.
I wanted to believe that my father had been protecting me. I wanted to believe there was some innocent explanation for his signature.
But the statement existed.
The photograph existed.
And Vanessa had reacted as though she knew exactly what they meant.
Principal Harris carefully returned the pages to the file.
"We're not going to resolve this by arguing. I'm contacting the appropriate authorities, and no one should remove or alter any of these documents.""
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"You really think you're going to solve a ten-year-old mystery in a school auditorium?""
"No," he replied.
"But I can make sure the evidence is preserved.""
He reached for his phone.
Vanessa suddenly turned toward the broken portrait.
She walked to the edge of the stage and crouched beside the scattered glass.
"What are you doing?"" I demanded.
She ignored me.
Instead, she reached beneath the broken wooden frame and pulled out a small folded piece of paper.
My breath caught.
I hadn't seen it before.
It was tucked into the back of the frame, behind the canvas backing.
Vanessa unfolded it.
Her eyes moved across the writing.
Then she crushed the paper in her fist.
Naomi rushed forward.
"Give me that!""
Vanessa recoiled.
"It's nothing!""
"Then let us see it!""
"No!""
Principal Harris stepped between them.
"Vanessa, put the paper on the table.""
For the first time, my stepmother looked genuinely desperate.
She glanced at me, then at Naomi, then down at the crushed paper in her hand.
"I was trying to protect her," she whispered.
"Protect me from what?"" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Naomi reached for the paper, but Vanessa pulled it against her chest.
Then my stepmother looked at me and said something I would remember for the rest of my life.
"Your mother wasn't the only person who disappeared that night.""
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
Vanessa's lips trembled.
Before she could speak again, Principal Harris's phone rang.
He glanced at the screen and answered.
"Hello?""
His expression changed as he listened.
Then he looked directly at Naomi.
"Yes, she's here.""
A pause.
"No. I haven't shown anyone the rest of the file.""
Naomi's face drained of color.
Principal Harris slowly lowered the phone.
"The police have located someone who was listed in the original investigation.""
"Who?"" I asked.
He looked at the crushed paper in Vanessa's hand.
May you like
Then he spoke the name that made my stepmother stagger backward.
"Daniel.""
