Chapter 7
Half an hour later, she took a picture of her reading homework and sent it to me.
Her handwriting was all over the place, and the last two questions were left unanswered.
Anna messaged: [I don't know how to do them.]
I stared at those two questions.
If this were before, I'd have jumped right in and explained it to her.
I'd help her figure out the main idea, step by step.
I'd give her a sample answer to follow.
And I'd tell her to underline the important words.
But this time, I only wrote back: [Ask your dad.]
She sent me a voice message.
"Mom, he's already asleep," Anna said, her voice barely audible.
She was speaking so softly, like she didn't want anyone to hear.
I could hear her sniffle, trying hard not to cry.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight.
I set my phone down and closed my eyes for a moment.
After a few seconds, I picked it up again.
"Just ask your teacher at school tomorrow," I replied.
"If you don't know the answer, just mark it, don't leave it empty," I continued.
"Don't just leave it blank," I added.
She didn't reply.
At one in the morning, I got a photo from her.
She'd finished the reading assignment.
The last line of her writing was so faint, it was barely clinging to the paper.
I zoomed in and saw a small note she'd scribbled next to the questions.
It read: "Mom used to say it's okay to get the answer wrong, but never leave it blank."
My eyes stung with tears.
I didn't reply with "Good job."
I didn't tell her to get some sleep, either.
I just sent two words.
I texted: [Got it.]
At 7:30 the next morning, Ms. Parker texted me.
Ms. Parker texted: [Anna was late again today.]
Ms. Parker added: [But she did finish yesterday's reading assignment.]
Ms. Parker added: [She just seems really out of it.]
I forwarded the message to James.
He replied almost instantly.
James texted: [She was up late last night doing her homework.]
James texted: [Happy now?]
I replied: [If she's late, that's because you guys didn't handle the morning routine.]
I added: [If she's up late, that's because she didn't manage her homework right.]
I added: [Neither of these has anything to do with whether I'm satisfied or not.]
James sent a string of voice messages.
I didn't listen to them.
I just replied with four words.
I replied: [Please communicate in writing.]
He didn't reply after that.
On Saturday afternoon, Anna really did come back.
I didn't go pick her up.
James dropped her off at the gate.
I looked down from the window.
Anna had her backpack on and was carrying a bag full of workbooks.
She didn't bring her pink suitcase with her this time.
James sat in the car, never getting out.
The window rolled down halfway, and he said something I couldn't hear.
Anna kept her head down, not saying a word.
Then the car drove off.
She stood there, looking up at my window.
I didn't go down right away.
Three minutes later, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door.
Anna was standing there, her eyes red and puffy.
"Mom," she said.
When she called me, her voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like her.
I stepped aside to let her in.
She changed out of her shoes slowly.
Like she was tense, expecting me to speak.
I placed a glass of warm water on the table for her.
"Have you eaten yet?" I asked, my voice gentle.
She shook her head, her eyes still red.
"No," Anna whispered.
I went into the kitchen to make her some pasta.
She stood quietly at the kitchen door and asked in a small voice, "Mom, can I stay and eat at home before I leave?"
I didn't turn around.
"Of course," I said.
She asked softly, "Mom, is it okay if I sleep here tonight? Just for one night?"
The water boiled.
Steam billowed up from the pot.
I put the pasta in, keeping my voice steady.
"No," I said.
There was a sudden silence behind me.
After a long pause, Anna finally asked, "Why?"
I said, "The three months aren't over yet.
"This is what you and your dad decided together."
Anna's eyes filled with tears, and they started to spill down her cheeks.
"But I'm just so tired," Anna whispered.
I turned down the heat.
"I know," I said softly.
Anna sobbed, "It's like I have no freedom at all at Grandma's.
"She's always making me do chores.
"Dad's never home.
"Whenever Mary doesn't feel well, everyone just drops everything for her.
"I can't even get my homework done in peace.
"No one even bothers to wake me up in the morning.
"Grandma locked all my books away in the cabinet, she said just looking at them annoyed her.
"My little brother isn't even born yet, and they're already making me practice mixing formula."
She was getting more worked up, like she was finally letting out all the stuff she'd been bottling up these past few days.
I turned off the stove.
I turned around and looked at her.
"So, you came back today because you want me to sort all this out for you?" I asked.
She started to nod, but then shook her head just as quickly.
"I just want to come home," Anna said.
"Mom, I don't want to stay there anymore," Anna said.
I paused for a moment.
Then I ladled the pasta into a bowl.
"Eat first," I said.
She just stood there, not moving.
I set a fork down in front of her.
I said, "When you're done eating, call your dad yourself.
"Let him know what you've decided."
Anna's face went even paler.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
I said, "You were brave enough to tell me you wanted to leave.
"Now you need to be brave enough to tell him you want to come back."
She looked at me, tears streaming down her face.
"Mom, are you still mad at me?" Anna asked, her voice trembling.