Page 17 of The Birthday Girl
Kali picked at the bowl of dried Fruit Loops, rolling one between her fingers before glancing up. “Mommy?”
“What?” Shanice snapped sharper than she meant, rubbing her temple with the heel of her hand.
Kali hesitated, her voice small. “A lady came to my school yesterday.”
Shanice froze with the milk carton she had just grabbed out of the fridge tilted in her hand. “What lady?”
“She said she was your friend.” Kali’s eyes dropped to her bowl as she stirred the cereal around with her finger. “She asked me questions about Daddy.”
She was referring to Tyriq, although he wasn’t her father.
“Did you know the woman? Have you seen her with me before?” The carton slipped from Shanice’s hand, and milk splattered across the counter before she caught it.
Kali shook her head. “No,” she replied sadly.
“Then why were you talking to her, and what the hell kind of questions did she ask you?” Shanice shrieked, demanding to know everything they talked about.
Kali flinched. “Don’t yell, Mommy. Please. I didn’t tell her nothing. I just said I didn’t know.” She finally looked up, her lower lip trembling.
Shanice’s pulse banged against her skull, heavier than the hangover ever could.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, forcing her voice to lower. “You did the right thing, baby. What goes on in our house stays in our house.”
“I know.” Kali smiled, happy that she’d gotten it right.
“But—” Shanice held up a finger. “Always remember stranger danger, and don’t ever talk to anyone I didn’t introduce to you or you’ve never seen with me. And if I don’t call your phone to say there will be someone else picking you up, you don’t get into any cars. You hear me?”
“Yes, Mommy.” Kali nodded, but her eyes were wide, spooked.
Shanice pressed her palm flat against the counter to keep from shaking. The box with the red bow sat at the far end of the table, small, neat, and waiting. Her gaze slid to it, throat closing.
Who the hell had been at her daughter’s school, and where the hell did that package come from?
After her daughter finished with her breakfast, Shanice rushed her into a clean shirt and jeans, her fingers fumbling with thebuttons as the girl squirmed. Her head was throbbing, but she plastered on a smile for Kali’s sake. Every second she lingered, her gaze kept darting back to the little black box sitting on the dresser where she’d dropped it.
The ride to school was a blur. She barely remembered the stoplights or the sound of Kali’s chatter in the back seat. All she could think about was that box. That bow. The way it had been sitting at her doorstep, waiting for her.
By the time she kissed her daughter goodbye and watched her shuffle through the school’s front doors, Shanice’s nerves were shredded. She drove home with her stomach knotted, her son’s whining in the car seat grating against her already thin patience.
Once inside their home, she gave him a cup of juice, laid him in his bed, and prayed the cartoon lullabies on his tablet would knock him out fast. When his small body finally stilled, Shanice crept back into the living room.
The package sat where she’d left it, neat and perfect, that red bow glinting in the morning light. Her hands trembled as she untied it, the ribbon sliding away with a whisper. The lid resisted at first, then gave with a soft pop.
What she saw inside made her stomach lurch.
A severed ear, mottled and bloody, lay nestled against the white velvet lining. The glint of a diamond stud caught the light. It was Tyriq’s, the one she had chosen for his birthday last year.
Her hand flew to her mouth, smothering the scream that clawed at her throat. Tears blurred her vision, and she stumbled backward, knocking into the edge of the couch. She gagged, bile burning her throat as she doubled over the coffee table.
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The air in the living room was suddenly thick and hot as if her couch had been set aflame, the diamond a pinpoint of fire burning into her skull.
All she could think about was someone having Tyriq. The ear told her nothing. There was no telling if he was alive or not,but someone wanted her to know he was in danger. Wanted her afraid, trembling, off balance.
She stumbled to the bathroom, clutching the box in her hand, and scrabbled inside the medicine cabinet for the orange bottle she had hidden behind the toothpaste. She tossed two Vicodin down and sipped water from the faucet.
Shanice leaned against the wall, taking a moment to calm down so she could think. Where was Tyriq? Why hadn’t he called? Should she try his phone? Yeah. That was it. She would call.
With that decided, she headed to her bedroom and snatched her phone off the nightstand. She dialed Tyriq three times, but the call went straight to his full voicemail.
