Chapter 5
My parents and Briana suddenly became very eager to take Ella on vacation with them.
They talked about the beach, about cousins bonding, about how much fun she’d have with Paige and Lucas.
“It’ll be good for her,” my mother said. “She’ll love it.”
Briana chimed in.
“You need a break, Dana,” my father added.
It sounded so reasonable, almost normal, but there was something strange in how hard they pushed.
They discouraged me from coming, told me it was quality time Ella needed with them, not me.
I hesitated, but they made it sound like a gift for Ella, for me.
And maybe part of me wanted to believe them, so I agreed.
I let her go.
And two days later, the phone rang.
That’s why I can’t say Miami surprised me.
It shocked me.
Yes, it enraged me.
But surprised me? No.
Because my parents had been crossing lines my whole life.
Always deciding what was best for me.
Always telling me I’d thank them later.
This time, it wasn’t my life they interfered in.
It was my daughter’s.
And that was a mistake they would never come back from.
When I think back to that night, what I remember most isn’t the fury.
It’s the silence.
The kind of silence where your heart is thundering in your chest, but the world around you is still.
Where you know if you let yourself feel even half of what’s inside, you’ll crack open.
So I didn’t.
I stayed on the phone with Ella.
Her voice was small, hiccuping, asking me over and over, “Mommy, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I told her. “I’m not going anywhere. Just keep talking to me, sweetheart.”
We talked about nothing.
Curtains, the neighbor’s dog barking, whether she’d had anything to eat.
Every answer came broken between sobs.
But I kept her going until I heard Paula’s voice in the background.
And then Ella’s sobs changed.
Relief this time.
“Dana, I’ve got her.”
I closed my eyes.
My grip on the phone loosened, but the fury in my chest only got sharper.
Because while Paula was doing what family should do, showing up, my own parents were patting themselves on the back for abandoning my child.
The next step was obvious.
Get to Miami.
But I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to plan.
I was still shaking when I called Steven.
He picked up from work, his voice steady.
“Hey, everything okay?”
I told him.
Everything.
There was a pause.
Then his voice changed. Harder, sharper.
“Book the flight,” he said. “I’ll take time off. I don’t care if it’s unpaid. We’re going together.”
I tried to argue.
“I can handle this. You don’t need to lose money.”
But he cut me off.
“Dana, you’re not doing this alone. Not with them. Not with him. End of discussion.”
And that was Steven.
Quiet most of the time.
But when he decided something, it was decided.
Within an hour, we had tickets for the earliest flight.
By the time we landed in Miami, Paula had already taken Ella home with her.
Her house wasn’t big, a modest little bungalow with peeling paint on the shutters.
But the second I walked through the door, it felt like a fortress.
Ella ran straight into my arms, her face blotchy, her small hands gripping my shirt like she was afraid I’d disappear again.
I held her so tight I felt her heartbeat through her chest.
Steven wrapped his arms around both of us, and Paula stood in the doorway watching, her eyes soft.
She hadn’t changed much, still practical, still brisk.
When I was little, she’d been the one who slipped me candy when Mom wasn’t looking.
The one who told me I wasn’t crazy when I said Briana always got more attention.
We drifted apart.
But standing there in her kitchen, I remembered why I’d trusted her.
“Stay here,” she insisted, pulling out the kettle. “I don’t care if the guest room’s small. It’ll fit the three of you just fine.”
I started to protest.
Miami hotels weren’t exactly hard to find.
But Paula waved me off.
May you like
“Nonsense. You need family right now. Real family.”
So, we stayed.
