But last year, I met Marisa at the hospital. She was a nurse, elegant, intelligent, and with a subtle sense of humour. She wasn’t embarrassed by my stories about work. She remembered Avery’s favourite order of bubble tea. When my shift ran late, she offered to drive Avery to her debate meeting.
Avery was cautious with her, but not cold. That was considered progress.
After eight months, I began to think that maybe I could do this. Maybe I could have a partner without losing what I already had.
I bought the ring and kept it in a small velvet box in my bedside table drawer.
Maybe I could have a partner without losing what I already had.
Then one evening, Marisa appeared at my doorstep, looking as if she had witnessed a crime. She stood in my living room, holding out her phone to me.
‘Your daughter is hiding something TERRIBLE from you. Look!’
Her screen showed footage from a security camera. A hooded figure entered my bedroom, walked straight to my dresser, and opened the bottom drawer. That was where I kept my safe, which contained money and documents for Avery’s college.
My stomach dropped so fast that I felt dizzy. Marisa swiped to the next clip. Same hoodie. Same silhouette.
‘I didn’t want to believe it,’ she said, her voice soft but sharp. ‘But your daughter has been acting strange lately. And now this.’
Then the man took the money out of the safe.
I couldn’t speak. My mind searched for an explanation that would make sense.
‘Avery wouldn’t do that,’ I exhaled.
‘You say that because you’re blind to her actions,’ Marisa said with a hard expression on her face.
That statement haunted me. I stood up so quickly that my chair scraped across the floor. ‘I need to talk to her.’
‘Avery wouldn’t do that.’
‘She’s my daughter.’
‘And I’m trying to protect you,’ Marisa said sharply. ‘She’s 16. You can’t keep pretending she’s perfect.’
I broke free from her grip and went upstairs. Avery was in her room, wearing headphones, bent over her homework. She looked up at me when I opened the door and smiled as if everything was normal.
‘Hi, Dad. Are you okay? You look pale.’
I couldn’t speak for a second. I just stood there, trying to match the girl in front of me with the figure in that video.
‘She’s 16. You can’t keep pretending she’s perfect.’
Finally, I managed to say, ‘Avery, were you in my room when I was out?’
Her smile disappeared. ‘What?’
‘Just answer me.’
She sat up straighter, becoming defensive. ‘No. Why should I?’
My hands were shaking. ‘Something’s missing from my safe.’
Her face changed… first to confusion, then to fear, then to anger. That anger was so quintessentially Avery that it almost broke me.
‘Something’s missing from my safe.’
‘Wait… are you accusing me, Dad?’ she replied indignantly.
‘I don’t want to,’ I replied honestly. ‘I just need an explanation. Because I saw someone in a grey hoodie come into my room on the security video.’
‘A grey hoodie?’ She stared at me for a long time, then got up and went to her wardrobe. She pulled out some empty hangers, moved the jackets aside and turned back to me.
‘My grey hoodie,’ she said. ‘The one I wear all the time. It disappeared two days ago.’
I froze. ‘What?’
‘It’s gone, Dad. I thought I left it in the laundry. I thought maybe you washed it. But you didn’t. It’s just gone.’
Something cold and heavy settled in my chest. I started downstairs. Marisa was in the kitchen, calmly pouring herself a glass of water, as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in my living room.
‘Avery’s grey hoodie is gone,’ I reported.
Marisa didn’t flinch. ‘So what?’
‘Then it could have been anyone in the video.’
She tilted her head, displeased. ‘Are you kidding?’
I stared at her. ‘Wait… what safe code did you see entered in those frames?’
Her mouth opened and then closed. ‘What?’
‘Tell me the code,’ I repeated slowly.
Her eyes flashed. ‘Why are you interrogating me?’
Suddenly, I remembered something. Marisa once joked that I was ‘old-fashioned’ because I had a personal safe. And she insisted on installing a security camera ‘for safety’ because my neighbourhood was ‘quiet, but you never know what might happen.’
I took out my phone and opened the camera app — the one Marisa had installed. I scrolled through the archive. And there it was.
A few minutes before the hooded figure entered my bedroom, the camera caught Marisa in the hallway… wearing Avery’s grey hoodie.
Everything inside me seemed to freeze as I played the next clip.
Marisa entered my room, opened the dresser and leaned over the safe. Then she held something up to the camera with a small, triumphant smile.
Money.
I turned the phone towards her. ‘Explain this.’
Marisa’s face turned pale, then hard as concrete.
‘You don’t understand,’ she growled. ‘I was trying to save you.’
‘By setting up my daughter? Stealing from me? Are you out of your mind?’