Chapter 3: The Things We Pretended Not to See
The next morning, I woke up before my alarm.
For a few seconds, I forgot everything.
Then I saw the torn dress hanging over my chair.
The memory came back instantly.
I reached for my phone.
There were dozens of graduation messages.
Friends.
Teachers.
Family members.
Everyone was celebrating.
Everyone except the people inside my own house.
I found Dad in the kitchen making coffee.
He looked exhausted.
“You didn’t sleep.””
Neither did you,” I replied.
He smiled sadly.
“I guess we have that in common.””
I sat across from him.
“Why didn’t you give me Mom’s letter?””
He stopped moving.
“I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
He looked at the coffee machine.
“Of losing the last connection I had to her.””
I frowned.
“You kept my mother’s final words from me because you were scared?””
“Yes.””
The honesty hurt.
But somehow, it helped.
Dad sat down.
“After your mother died, I promised myself I would never let anything happen to you.””
“You didn’t.””
He looked at me.
“I let people hurt you in smaller ways.””
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew he was right.
The missing jewelry.
The ruined school projects.
The comments Mia made about my mother.
The times Vanessa told me to ignore it.
I had convinced myself those things were normal.
Families argued.
Siblings fought.
That was what everyone said.
But there was a difference between conflict and cruelty.
Dad looked toward the stairs.
“Mia needs help.””
I nodded.
“She needs to admit she hurt me first.””
“Yes.””
He sighed.
“And I need to admit I allowed it.””
Later that afternoon, I found Mia outside.
She was sitting on the porch, staring at her phone.
For once, she wasn’t smiling.
“Are you here to yell at me?”” she asked.
“No.””
“Then why are you here?””
I sat beside her.
“I want to understand.””
She laughed.
“You always do that.””
“Do what?””
“Act like you’re above everything.””
I looked at her.
“I’m not above you, Mia.””
“You are.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“I’m just tired.””
She looked away.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered:
“Do you know what happened when Mom died?””
I froze.
Mia was only four when my mother passed.
She barely remembered her.
“She was your mom,” she said.
“What?””
“You got years with her.””
My chest tightened.
“Mia…”
“I know it’s not your fault.””
Her voice cracked.
“But everyone talked about her. Everyone looked at you and saw her.””
I stared at her.
“I lost her too.””
“You lost your mother.””
She swallowed.
“I lost the only person who made me feel like I belonged.””
I didn’t expect that.
Not from her.
But then she ruined the moment.
“Still doesn’t mean you deserve everything.””
I stood.
There it was.
The excuse.
The wound she kept turning into a weapon.
“I’m sorry you were hurting.””
I looked at her.
“But hurting people doesn’t make you less hurt.””
She didn’t respond.
That evening, Dad received a phone call.
I was upstairs when I heard him shouting.
Not angry shouting.
Panicked shouting.
I walked down the stairs.
“Dad?””
He turned around.
His face had gone pale.
“What happened?””
He looked at the phone.
Then at me.
“Aaliyah…”
Something about his voice made my stomach drop.
“What?””
He slowly handed me the phone.
On the screen was an email.
From my university.
The subject line read:
*Academic Integrity Investigation Notice.*
My hands went cold.
“I don’t understand.””
Dad looked toward the hallway.
Mia was standing there.
Watching.
And she wasn’t surprised.
That was when I knew.
May you like
The dress had never been the whole story.
It was only the beginning.
