Chapter 3
We hadn’t been as close in recent years, but when I was growing up, she was the one person in the family who made me feel safe.
It wasn’t guaranteed, but it was the only option I had.
“Please stay with Ella,” I said. “I’m going to call my aunt. I’ll ring you back as soon as I know.”
“Of course,” the woman said.
I hung up and dialed Paula.
She picked up immediately. I told her what happened, gave her the address, and she was already on her way.
That solved one problem, but another one was waiting.
I called my mother’s mobile.
She answered quickly, almost cheerful.
“Dana. Oh, good. You know. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
Fine.
“You left my daughter crying on someone’s doorstep.”
“Not someone,” she corrected smoothly. “Her father.”
“A woman answered the door,” I said. “Not him.”
There was a pause on the other end long enough that I knew they’d heard me, but they weren’t going to admit anything.
My mother’s voice came back firm and dismissive.
“You’ll thank us later. This is what’s best for Ella.”
“Best?”
The word scraped out of me.
“Leaving her crying on a doorstep?”
“You’re blowing it out of proportion.”
Briana cut in. Her tone was sharp, smug, like she’d been waiting for her moment.
“You’ve kept her from him long enough. She needs her real father. We’re helping.”
Helping.
That was the word she chose.
“She was hysterical,” I said. “Do you even care about that?”
“You’re too sensitive, Dana,” my mother said.
I could hear the sigh in her voice like I was a child being scolded.
“You always make everything a drama. One day you’ll see we were right.”
I stared at the wall, the phone hot against my ear, listening to them justify what no sane person could justify.
I ended the call quietly.
No shouting, no tears, just a decision settling into place.
Because this wasn’t about me anymore.
This was about my daughter.
And my family had no idea what they just started.
When I tell people what happened in Miami, some ask, “How could your parents do that? How could they think leaving Ella like that was okay?”
The truth is, it didn’t come out of nowhere.
Miami wasn’t the first time my family decided they knew what was best for me or for my daughter.
It was just the most dangerous, the most unforgivable.
But that pattern, it had been there all along.
Growing up, Briana was the star.
It wasn’t always blatant. It was in little things, subtle things, the kind you can’t quite prove when you’re a child.
But I felt it.
If Briana so much as hummed, Mom and Dad clapped like she was destined for Broadway.
May you like
If I got perfect grades, barely a nod.
And when it came to decisions about my life, my parents made them for me.
