Jenna came over the next morning and found me packing Noah’s little navy blazer.
“You’re really going?”
“Yes.”
“With Noah?”
I folded his white shirt carefully.
“He deserves to know his father didn’t disappear because he wasn’t enough. And Daniel deserves to remember he has a son before he kisses another woman in front of God.”
Jenna sat on the bed.
“Maya, this could get ugly.”
“It’s already ugly.”
“What if he humiliates you?”
I looked at her then.
“Jenna, he told the world I was dead. There is no humiliation left that belongs to me.”
She reached for my hand. “Do you want me to come?”
I wanted to say yes. I wanted to lean on someone else’s anger. But the path ahead felt like one I needed to walk on my own feet.
“No,” I said. “Stay here. If I call, answer.”
“I always do.”
When Noah came out of his room dragging his backpack, his drawing was tucked safely inside a folder.
“Are we going to surprise Dad?”
The question almost broke me.
“Yes,” I said. “We’re going to surprise him.”
