“Then I still stand beside you.”
She squeezed his fingers.
“Always?”
“Always.”
Andre slept on the floor outside Nia’s room that night.
He did not plan to.
He simply sat there after she fell asleep and eventually closed his eyes.
At six thirty, Ava found him.
She crouched.
“Dad?”
Andre woke.
“What?”
“Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
He looked around.
“Bad hotel.”
Ava almost smiled.
Then remembered.
“Where’s Mom?”
Andre sat up.
“With Aunt Denise.”
“Is she coming back?”
He did not know how to answer eight-year-old questions with adult uncertainty.
“Not today.”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“Is she in jail?”
“No.”
“Are the police coming?”
“I don’t know.”
Ava sat beside him.
“Did my pictures get Mom in trouble?”
Andre closed his eyes briefly.
“No.”
“She told me taking pictures of people without asking is bad.”
Andre looked at her.
“In many situations, yes.”
“Then I did something bad.”
“No.”
“You were trying to show me something important because you didn’t know another way.”
“That does not make what happened your responsibility.”
Ava thought.
“If I didn’t take pictures, would Nia still not get food?”
Andre could not lie.
“Maybe.”
Ava started crying.
Andre pulled her close.
“That does not mean you were supposed to save her.”
“You helped.”
“That was brave.”
“But the adults should have protected both of you before you needed to be brave.”
Caleb appeared in the hallway.
He stood several feet away.
His face was angry.
Andre saw it.
“Come here.”
Caleb shook his head.
“You made Mom leave.”
Ava stopped crying.
Andre nodded slowly.
“I asked her to stay somewhere else last night.”
“She’s our mom.”
“I know.”
“Nia already has you.”
The sentence hit Andre.
Nia’s door was still closed.
Good.
Andre stood.
“Let’s go downstairs.”
Caleb crossed his arms.
“I don’t want breakfast.”
The irony hurt.
Andre kept his face steady.
“You don’t have to eat right now.”
“But we’re talking.”
In the kitchen, the remains of the previous night’s dinner were still there.
Full serving dishes.
Chicken dried beneath plastic wrap.
Bread.
The little plate of rice remained where Andre left it.
He stared at it.
Caleb noticed.
“She got food.”
Andre looked at his son.
“What?”
“Mom fed her.”
Andre understood.
This was Caleb’s loyalty speaking.
“She didn’t get nothing.”
Andre sat.
“You’re right.”
“She got something.”
Caleb looked relieved.
Andre continued.
“But was it enough?”
Caleb said nothing.
“Would you have wanted that plate?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like plain rice.”