Chapter 5: What Diane Had Been Carrying
We met at a coffee shop twenty minutes from the house.
Diane was already there when I arrived, both hands around a cup she hadn't touched.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
I sat down across from her.
"Thank you for coming," she said.
"What do you have?"
She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
She turned it to face me.
It was a screenshot of a text conversation.
Vanessa's name at the top.
The messages were dated across the past four months.
I read the first one.
*She asked about the concert again.
I told her Marcus has a work thing.
She believed it.*
My chest went tight.
I kept reading.
*He's been distracted with the Henderson thing.
Good timing.*
Then, two weeks later:
*She cried in her room.
I could hear it.
I didn't go in.
Better she understands now.*
I set the phone down on the table.
"There's more," Diane said.
"Scroll down."
"Give me a second."
She waited.
I picked the phone back up.
I scrolled.
The messages continued.
Some were small — Vanessa reporting back on Maya's reactions like field notes.
Some were larger.
One, from six weeks ago, stopped me completely.
*If I can get her to ask to go live with her aunt, Marcus won't fight it.
He'll feel guilty but he'll let her go.
Then it's just us.*
I read it again.
"Who is she texting?" I said.
"Ryan," Diane said.
I looked up.
"He's not my ex-boyfriend," she said.
"I've never dated him.
He's Vanessa's ex.
They've been in contact since before she moved in with you.
I don't know exactly what they are.
But I know she's been reporting to him about Maya for months." She wrapped both hands around her cup.
"I found out two weeks ago.
She left her phone on my kitchen counter when she came to visit and a message came through while she was in the bathroom.
I saw it before I could look away."
"And you didn't tell me."
"I wanted to be sure." She met my eyes.
"And I was scared.
She's my sister.
I kept thinking I was misreading it.
That there was an explanation." She pushed the phone closer to me.
"There isn't."
I looked at the screen again.
At the message about Maya crying in her room.
*Better she understands now.*
"She wanted to push Maya out," I said.
"Yes."
"She's been working toward it for months."
"Yes."
I sat back in my chair.
The coffee shop was busy around us — people with laptops, a couple near the window, a woman with a stroller.
Normal morning.
Normal world.
"She told me last night she's pregnant," I said.
Diane went still.
"Did you know?"
"No." She looked at her cup.
"No, I didn't know that."
We sat with that for a moment.
"Does it change anything?" Diane asked quietly.
I thought about Maya at that table.
School clothes.
Fork still in her hand.
Walking into a room full of people who'd been told, without being told, that she didn't quite belong there.
I thought about an empty auditorium seat.
"No," I said.
"It doesn't change what she did."
Diane nodded slowly.
"Can you send me those screenshots?" I said.
"Already did.
Check your phone."
I looked down.
The message had come through while we were talking.
I opened it.
Every screenshot.
Dated, timestamped, clear.
"Diane." I looked at her.
"I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest."
"Okay."
"Is there anything else?
Anything you haven't told me yet?"
She looked at the table for a long moment.
"There's one more thing," she said.
"And I don't know how to say it."
"Just say it."
She looked up.
"Ryan isn't just an ex," she said.
"Vanessa told me once — years ago, before you — that she'd had a pregnancy scare with him.
That it hadn't worked out." She paused.
"I don't know if this pregnancy is yours, Marcus.
I'm sorry.
I don't know.
But I think you need to."
The noise of the coffee shop continued around us.
May you like
I folded my hands on the table and looked at the wall behind Diane's head for a moment.
Then I picked up my phone and called my doctor.
