Chapter 33 - Scars

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I stepped into the house with France in tow, ready to find some answers.

My mom's room is here on the first floor. I kicked off my sneakers, and then tiptoed my way to the unoccupied room that once belonged to my mom.

The door opened with a small creak, I flicked on the light switch, then I motioned for France to come in so I could close the door.

He stepped in behind me, and then quickly glanced around the room. It was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, lotion and perfume on the floor, books and DVDs torn up and broken. I sighed, knowing this was the work of my dad. He must have also been searching for Mom's diaries. It doesn't even look like he found them either.

Mom was also very good at hiding things and keeping secrets. I bet I know where they are. If I know Tiana Matthews, the diaries are hiding in plain sight.

I stepped over the discarded clothes and the book pages to the bed. "France, would you be a doll and lift the mattress, please?" I smiled sweetly at him.

He gave me a sharp nod and did what I asked.

Underneath the mattress was what I had suspected, twelve journals, or what I liked to call them, diaries.

I smiled, and France whistled. I took all twelve of them and put them on the dresser, as France must have been tired of lifting the mattress.

He dropped the mattress, and then picked up some of the diaries. "Let's go," I told him.

We quickly and quietly made our way up to my room. I pushed the door open and locked the door shut with a soft thud. My bed dipped under the extra pressure from our bodies. We threw all the books onto the bed. They were dated, but the ones I wanted to find were from 2018-2020.

The wrapping paper crumpled when I picked up the 2018 diary, skimming my fingers through the worn pages. I snapped the book shut, then picked up the 2019 one and handed it to France. "We're looking for anything pertaining to my dad that looks suspicious," I told him.

He nodded, then pressed a quick kiss onto my forehead. He then got comfortable on my double bed. I sat around the small desk positioned in the corner of the room.

The small, thick book in my hand flipped open to the first page, and I read the title: Tiara's Birthday.

I knew I was supposed to be looking for things about my dad, but here I was, reading about my fourteenth birthday. A small tear slipped down my cheek from the memories of me that my mom carried.

I cleared my throat and proceeded to flip through pages about me and my minuscule problems, like a bad grade or bullies.

Around the middle of the book was a title that read: The Stranger.

That piqued my interest, and I called out to France, "Hey France, come look at this."

"What is it, darling?" he asked, getting up off the bed.

"Look at this."

The Stranger: May 23rd, 2018

Dear Diary,

There is a stranger beside me. He sleeps and eats where my husband does, but I don't know him. He doesn't look at me the same, and it gets me paranoid. Even though I am hurting, I have to be strong for Tiara. Lucian is no longer the man I married. He never touches me or kisses me unless we have visitors. That begs the question, am I not good enough anymore? Am I the one who is changing and not him? Asking myself these questions, I decided to go straight to the source. All that ensued were arguments.

Love,

Tiana.

A small sob tore through me at the pain my mom went through, and all alone. France held onto me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. "It's okay," he would say, but I didn't believe him.

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