“What the fuck, Laura? How can you be so calm when your — our — only child is missing?” How cruel can you be, I want to add.
Laura yanks her arm from my grasp then turns to the kitchen.
“That terror of a child?” she begins as she pours wine into a glass. “That terrible daughter of yours is your problem now. Wasn’t that clear when I sent her away to you?”
I notice Calvin and Andrew’s rigid stance. They have been with me through the brutal custody battle with Laura. And they are also well aware of what transpired before that. They know my ex-wife perfectly well. She only wants money. Myah has just happened to be the means to an end.
“I have already dealt with her for years, and I don’t need any more of her drama in my life,” Laura adds before gulping wine. “I’ve signed the papers, haven’t I? I relinquished all my claim on her. Myah is not my responsibility anymore. So why should I care where she is?”
My ex-wife belonged to a middle-class family, but she was an only child. So even when her parents didn’t have much, she always got what she wanted. I’ve seen how her parents toiled to feed her love for clothes and shoes. And I knew when we started dating that she was a greedy and ambitious woman. She desires all these material things, and she knows how to make people around her get them for her. Yet back then, I had this naïve belief that she was more than that because I didn’t want to believe that somebody could be so selfish.
I proposed to Laura after a year of dating and immediately had to leave for an assignment in the Middle East. All my friends were apprehensive of the wedding and my departure. They warned me that Laura didn’t seem like the type who would wait around faithfully. But I trusted her, and I believed that if I just gave in to all her wants, then we would be okay. That was what I wanted to think when I left. And I asked everyone just to have a little faith because maybe distance would make her heart better.
When I got back, we finally gave in to having a child. Laura initially didn’t want one. But all her friends had started to become mothers, and they were all hanging out buying baby clothes and maternity dresses. So, my wife told me one day that she wanted a daughter.
However, when Myah was born, Laura told the nurse that she didn’t want to hold her. I remember how I had to convince her to nurse our daughter, and I can still clearly picture the hatred in her eyes when she looked at our baby. I realize now that I should have taken Myah away, far, far away from her mother that day.
“We need to see her room,” I hear myself saying.
Laura doesn’t even turn to us, as she roots inside a cupboard. Instead, she only waves us away. But when we turn to head upstairs, she suddenly calls out.
“There are boxes in her room. Now that you’re already here, can you finally pack her things up and clear the room. I want to turn it into a guest room. Or maybe a gym.” She murmurs new room ideas to herself and pays no more attention to us.
I don’t bother answering her. Instead, we head upstairs and turn to the first door.
I know I should focus on the matter at hand, but I can’t stop my mind from thinking about last night. That woman from Dark Club signed the deal, and I can see her again anytime I want to. So, I pick up my phone and hit her up. I motion for Calvin and Andrew to go inside before me. Then I quickly type a place and time email then send it to her. I smile to myself and feel a little lighter than earlier. At that point, I follow my assistants inside.
Myah’s room is the smallest in this house, and it’s mostly empty. There’s her bed, a small dresser, and a shelf half-filled with books. There are only these three pieces of furniture inside, yet we barely have any place to move. Maybe it’s a good thing, I tell myself. Because now we don’t have lots of space to look at. However, a gnawing feeling suddenly rises inside me. Why does my daughter have this little when I send them so much money every month? I feel the need to punch someone again.
Calvin and Andrew start packing up her things, so I search the room. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I’m desperate for anything. Then, Calvin holds up a journal and passes it to me. I don’t want to snoop around my daughter’s personal thoughts, but I have no choice now. I browse through a few pages and see no helpful information. The notebook only has a few doodles. It seems like Myah only uses this when she’s bored in class, judging from random notes about literary themes.