“Nia?”
Aaron asked.
Jordan pointed upstairs.
Aaron sat across from them first.
“Your mom is staying at Aunt Rochelle’s tonight.”
Layla’s eyes filled immediately.
“Are you getting divorced?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she going to jail?”
Jordan asked.
Aaron stared.
“Why would you ask that?”
Jordan looked toward the floor.
“Because she used Nia’s money.”
Aaron chose each word.
“There are adults whose job it is to decide whether laws were broken.”
“That is not your responsibility.”
“Neither is fixing this.”
Layla started crying.
“I don’t want Mom to go to jail.”
Aaron moved beside her.
“I know.”
She looked toward him.
“Are you mad at us?”
“No.”
“Not even about the stuff?”
“No.”
“You did not choose where the money came from.”
Jordan said quietly:
“I knew Mom bought too much.”
“That is not the same as knowing she used money she shouldn’t.”
Aaron looked at both children.
“You do not have to punish yourselves because an adult made a decision.”
Jordan’s eyes reddened.
“What if we liked it?”
“Liked what?”
“Getting stuff.”
Aaron almost smiled sadly.
“You’re eleven.”
“You’re supposed to like stuff.”
Jordan wiped his face quickly.
“I should’ve told you about Nia.”
That was different.
Aaron did not rush to erase the guilt.
“What stopped you?”
“Mom.”
“What did she say?”
“That if I kept taking Nia’s side, people would think I didn’t appreciate everything she does for me.”
Aaron nodded.
“That was not fair to put on you.”
Jordan stared.
“I still should’ve told.”
“Maybe.”
The boy looked surprised.
Aaron continued.
“But knowing what you should do and being able to do it when an adult tells you not to are different.”
“What matters is what you do when you understand better.”
Jordan nodded.
Layla whispered:
“Can we say sorry to Nia?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
Aaron thought.
“If she wants to hear it.”
That distinction mattered.
He went upstairs.
Nia’s bedroom door was closed.
Aaron knocked.
“Hey.”
No answer.
“It’s Dad.”
“I know.”
Despite everything, he almost smiled.
“Can I come in?”
Pause.
“Yes.”
Nia sat on the floor beside her bed.
The new shoebox remained closed beside her.
Her old sneakers were still on.
Aaron sat on the floor several feet away.
Not beside her immediately.
“How are you?”
She shrugged.
The most nine-year-old answer possible.
“Celeste went to Aunt Rochelle’s.”
Nia looked up quickly.
“Because of me?”
“No.”
“Because of decisions she made.”
Nia stared at the carpet.
Aaron continued.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
Her shoulders tightened.
“You’re not in trouble.”
“I know.”
She did not sound convinced.
Aaron took a breath.