There was no humor in it.
“What situation?”
“Nia’s future.”
“No.”
Andre shook his head.
“My daughter’s future does not require her to be hungry.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed.
“She has a six-million-dollar trust.”
There it was.
The number.
Andre heard something ugly inside the way she said it.
Not concern.
Resentment.
“And?”
“Caleb and Ava don’t.”
“They have trusts too.”
“Not like hers.”
“They have education funds, investment accounts, and life-insurance trusts.”
“Worth maybe a tenth.”
Andre stared.
“That money came from Nia’s mother.”
Vanessa flinched.
Andre continued.
“It belongs to Nia.”
“It will belong to Nia.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
“Completely.”
“Of course you are.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“She is Aisha’s daughter.”
Andre’s face hardened.
“Do not say my late wife’s name like an accusation.”
Vanessa looked away.
For nearly eight years, Andre had tried to balance two truths.
Aisha had been his first wife.
Nia’s mother.
The woman he loved from college until cancer took her at thirty-four.
Vanessa was not her replacement.
Andre never asked her to be.
When he married Vanessa three years after Aisha’s death, he believed he had been honest about the past.
Aisha’s photographs remained.
Nia’s relationship with her maternal grandparents continued.
The trust Aisha’s father created for Nia remained legally separate.
Andre told Vanessa from the beginning that those assets would never become marital property.
Vanessa had said she understood.
Apparently she had understood very differently.
Andre looked at her.
“Why is there a guardianship petition?”
Vanessa wiped beneath one eye.
“It’s a draft.”
“For what?”
“For later.”
“How much later?”
“When she turns eighteen.”
Andre stared.
“You’ve spent years planning to have my daughter declared incapable when she becomes an adult?”
“No.”
“That document says exactly that.”
“It says she may need support.”
“Support from who?”
Vanessa did not answer.
Andre already knew.
“You.”
Vanessa’s silence confirmed it.
Andre felt physically sick.
“You wanted to become conservator of Nia’s trust.”
“I wanted somebody responsible involved.”
“She has a professional trustee.”
“Until twenty-one.”
“Twenty-five for principal distributions.”
“She gets significant discretionary control at eighteen.”
“With the trustee.”
“She can influence distributions.”
“So?”
“Nia is immature.”
“She is thirteen!”
“Exactly.”
Andre stared at her.
Vanessa continued, words coming faster.
“You have no idea how much money changes children.”
Andre almost could not believe what he was hearing.
“She is being fed rice in her own kitchen.”
“That has nothing to do with greed.”
“Then what does it have to do with?”
Vanessa hesitated.
Andre understood before she answered.
Evidence.
The photographs.
The school form.
The language in the petition.
Disordered eating.
Self-neglect.
Incapacity.
“You were creating a medical history.”
Vanessa looked away.
Andre felt rage so sharp his hands shook.
“You were starving her so later you could say she starved herself.”