Chapter 4: The Man at the Door
Nia stared at the man standing in the doorway.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe.
It was Marcus.
Her stepfather.
The man who had packed her lunch when she was little. The man who had taught her how to drive. The man whose voice had called her downstairs every morning for years.
He held the missing half of her graduation gown in one hand.
“Nia,” Marcus said quietly.
“You need to come outside.””
She didn't move.
Her eyes dropped to the torn gown.
Then back to his face.
“Where did you get that?””
Marcus glanced at Vanessa.
She wouldn't look at him.
“I found it,” he said.
“Where?””
“In the hallway.””
Nia shook her head.
“You were standing outside.””
Marcus swallowed.
“I heard shouting.””
Angela stepped forward.
“You knew.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Knew what?””
Angela pointed toward the folder.
“You knew she was coming.””
His jaw tightened.
Vanessa suddenly said, “Marcus, don't.””
Nia turned sharply.
“Don't what?””
Marcus stepped inside and closed the door.
The applause outside faded behind the thick backstage wall.
He looked at Nia for several seconds.
Then he said, “Your mother is here because she found the court records.””
Nia's eyes widened.
“You knew about the records?””
“I knew there were records.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
Marcus looked down.
“Yes.””
The answer landed harder than the torn gown.
Nia took one step backward.
“How long?””
Marcus didn't answer.
“How long have you known?””
“Nia…”
“How long?””
“Since you were sixteen.””
Nia's face went blank.
Vanessa whispered, “Marcus.””
He continued.
“I found the original file in the old storage cabinet.””
Angela's expression hardened.
“And you never told her.””
“I was trying to protect her.””
Angela laughed bitterly.
“That's what everyone says.””
Nia looked at Marcus.
“Protect me from what?””
Marcus stared at the floor.
“From the truth about your birth.””
Nia's voice became almost inaudible.
“I already know my mother gave birth to me.””
Marcus looked up.
“No.””
Silence.
“You don't.””
Nia frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Marcus walked toward the folding chairs.
He placed the gown beside the photograph.
Then he looked at Angela.
“You should tell her.””
Angela's eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to.””
“When?””
“When she was ready.””
Marcus shook his head.
“She has been ready.””
Vanessa suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Stop.””
Marcus pulled away.
“You had eighteen years.””
Vanessa's face twisted.
“I raised her.””
“And I loved her.””
“And Angela left.””
Angela stepped forward.
“I didn't leave.””
Vanessa pointed at her.
“You signed the papers.””
“I was threatened.””
Nia's head snapped toward her.
“By who?””
Angela went silent.
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa's expression changed.
Nia saw it.
That tiny flicker of recognition.
“You know who.””
Vanessa whispered, “No.””
“You do.””
“No.””
Marcus said, “His name is on the original filing.””
Nia looked at him.
“Who?””
Marcus opened his mouth.
The backstage lights suddenly flickered.
A staff member knocked on the door.
“Five minutes!””
Everyone froze.
Nia looked toward the auditorium.
Five minutes.
She was supposed to walk across a stage and accept a diploma while standing in the middle of a secret that had been buried since the day she was born.
She turned back.
“Tell me his name.””
Marcus looked at Angela.
Angela nodded.
Marcus finally said it.
“David Carter.””
Nia's eyes widened.
Her father's name.
The man she had been told died before she was born.
She looked at the photograph.
Then at the folder.
“He wasn't dead.””
Marcus shook his head.
“No.””
Nia's breathing quickened.
“You told me he died.””
Vanessa whispered, “Because you were safer believing that.””
“Where is he?””
Nobody answered.
Nia's voice rose.
“Where is my father?””
Marcus looked toward the backstage door.
Then his phone vibrated.
He pulled it from his pocket.
One message.
His face changed as he read it.
Nia noticed.
“What?””
Marcus slowly turned the screen toward Angela.
The message contained only seven words.
*Tell her before I walk in there.*
Angela's face went pale.
Nia stared at the phone.
“Before who walks in?””
Marcus looked toward the door.
Then someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
Vanessa backed away.
And a man's voice came from the other side.
“Nia.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
May you like
“I’m sorry.””
The door handle began to turn.
