Chapter 1
919 Words
I pressed the crumpled photo to my chest, the one I'd slept with every night since Mom left.
"Look! This is my mom, and this is my dad! Mom said Dad lives right here, in this big house."
In the photo, Mom leaned onto Dad's shoulder, their grins so bright they might have outshone the sun itself.
It was taken six years ago. Days after that shutter clicked, Mom walked out of his life.
Back then, she was already carrying me.
Afraid he'd slam the door in my face, I fished the envelope out of my frayed backpack.
The scrawled handwriting on the front read:
For Asher Thorne.
I'd memorized every word of the address below it, reciting it to myself a hundred times on the bus ride here.
"This is the letter Mom left for Dad. It has to get to him!"
The security guard glanced at my flushed, tear-streaked cheeks and sighed, leading me inside.
"Mr. Thorne, there's a little girl here asking for you."
Dad looked down at me, his gray eyes sharp and unyielding.
"Geez. What stunt is your mother pulling now?
"She even dragged you into it? Where is she? Hiding behind the bushes and waiting to beg for cash?"
Tears rushed down my cheeks before I could blink them back.
"Mom became a star in the sky."
He froze for a heartbeat, then a bitter, humorless laugh escaped him.
"Even toddlers know how to put on a sob story for money these days.
"Like mother, like daughter."
"Asher? Do we have company?"
A woman in a pale blue silk dress glided down the marble staircase, her heels clicking softly.
Dad didn't even glance over his shoulder.
"Vera, it's nothing. Go back upstairs."
Her perfect plastic smile faltered for a split second before she smoothed it back into place.
"What an adorable little girl. What's your name, sweet pea?"
I mumbled, "Stella Thorne."
Stella was Dad's favorite baby girl name.
The woman's face darkened slightly.
"Asher, she has your last name."
Dad flicked a non-existent lint from his cuff, his jaw tight with impatience.
"Coincidence. Where is your mother? Tell her to come face me herself instead of sending a messenger."
I sniffled and pulled out the glitter card I'd slaved over for three nights.
"Mom became a star in the sky.
"My teacher said we should tell our dads 'thank you' on Father's Day. This is for you."
The front of the card had "DAD" spelled out in silver glitter, surrounded by dozens of hand-drawn stars.
The biggest, shiniest one was Mom.
I'd glued my fingers together three times when making it, and cried when the glitter got in my eyes.
Dad stared at the card, his face a blank mask I couldn't read.
Vera's eyes turned cold as flint.
"Asher, children have such vivid imaginations, don't they?
"Someone's clearly coached her to say all this. You know how far people will go to get a piece of your fortune."
Dad's face turned stormy.
"Did your mother teach you this? It stopped working on me six years ago."
I shook my head so hard my pigtails flew and held up the photo Mom and I had cherished more than anything.
"Look! That's you, that's Mom. She kept this photo and looked at it every single night."
The edges of the photo were frayed thin from years of being held and rubbed.
Countless nights, I'd wake to find her sitting by the window, staring at it by moonlight, silent tears tracking down her face.
She'd pull me into her warm arms and whisper, "Stella, that's your dad. He's the kindest man in the whole world."
She told me that on the day the photo was taken, they thought they'd be together forever.
Dad's fingers brushed gently over Mom's smiling face in the photo.
Vera reached for it, but he turned away sharply, leaving her grasping at empty air.
"Asher?"
His voice was rough, like he'd swallowed gravel. "She kept this photo all these years?"
I nodded so fast my head spun.
"Every single day! She said it was her most precious thing in the whole world."
Vera's face drained of color.
"A photo proves nothing. What about everything she did to you six years ago?"
Dad's jaw tightened until I could see the muscle working in his cheek.
"Huh, same old trick. She'd spin any lie for a quick buck."
I lunged forward to grab the photo back. "It's not a lie!"
Dad cut me off sharply, his voice like a whip.
"Go tell your mother it's over between us. It ended six years ago. Tell her to stop these pathetic games."
Sobs wracked my small body as I stared at his cold, unyielding face.
"Mom really did become a star!
"She was sick. So much pain that she couldn't sleep at night.
"But she never cried. She said if she cried, I'd be even more sad.
"When she died, she was still holding this photo in her hand..."
Dad waved at the security guard. "Enough. Take her outside."
I struggled against the guard's gentle grip.
"Give me back my photo! It's Mom's most important thing!"
Dad tossed the photo onto the marble floor like it was a piece of trash.
I dove for it, tripped over my own scuffed sneakers, and crashed hard onto the ground.
My backpack flew open, spilling its contents across the floor.
The small white pill bottle rolled across the marble and stopped at his shoe.
Dad suddenly froze.
- Writer
