Chapter 2 - THE FIRST VIDEO
I stepped back just in time.
Vanessa’s fingers missed my phone by inches.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted.
She stared at the screen.
Then at me.
“You recorded me?”
That was all I needed to hear.
Not Why are you checking the cameras?
Not There’s nothing there.
You recorded me.
“You knew there was something to record?”
“No! That’s not what I meant.”
I turned toward the stairs.
“Lily, upstairs. Now.”
She ran.
Vanessa started after her.
I blocked the hallway.
“You stay right here.”
“You’re being insane.”
“Maybe.”
I locked the front door, then called my neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez.
She lived across the street.
She answered immediately.
“Ryan? Aren’t you supposed to be in Chicago?”
“I need you to come get Lily.”
Something in my voice stopped her from asking questions.
“I’ll be there in thirty seconds.”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“You’re involving the neighbors now?”
“I’m getting my daughter away from you.”
“She is my daughter too!”
“No.”
The word came out cold.
“You married her father. That doesn’t give you the right to terrorize her.”
Mrs. Alvarez arrived wearing gardening gloves.
One look at Lily’s swollen face was enough.
She didn’t say a word.
She simply took Lily’s hand.
Before leaving, Lily looked at me.
“You’re coming too, right?”
“Soon.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Don’t let Vanessa find the blue box.”
Vanessa spun around.
“What blue box?”
Lily’s face went blank.
Mrs. Alvarez pulled her outside.
I locked the door behind them.
Vanessa stared at me.
“What did she mean?”
“I was about to ask you.”
“I have no idea.”
I returned to the kitchen.
Opened the camera archive.
Vanessa followed.
“Ryan, stop.”
I clicked Monday morning.
The video began.
At first, everything looked normal.
Lily sat at the breakfast table.
Vanessa poured cereal.
Then Lily accidentally knocked over her cup.
Milk spilled across the table.
Vanessa’s face changed instantly.
She grabbed Lily’s wrist.
Hard.
Even through the grainy recording, I could see Lily’s mouth open in pain.
“You useless little thing.”
My skin crawled.
Vanessa stood behind me.
“That clip is out of context.”
I didn’t respond.
On-screen, Vanessa forced Lily to clean the floor with paper towels while calling her stupid.
Then she dumped Lily’s cereal into the trash.
“No breakfast.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Then learn not to make messes.”
The recording ended.
My hand was shaking.
I clicked another.
Tuesday.
Vanessa was brushing Lily’s hair.
Lily cried.
“You’re pulling.”
Vanessa yanked harder.
“Stop moving.”
“You’re hurting me.”
“You’re always whining.”
Another video.
Wednesday.
Lily stood in the hallway.
Vanessa pointed toward the laundry room.
“Inside.”
“No.”
“Inside.”
“It’s dark.”
“I don’t care.”
Vanessa pushed her in.
Closed the door.
Locked it.
The timestamp kept running.
One minute.
Ten.
Twenty.
Forty-three minutes.
For forty-three minutes, my four-year-old daughter sat alone in a dark laundry room.
I could hear her crying through the door.
I clicked pause.
My vision blurred.
Vanessa spoke quietly.
“She needed a timeout.”
“Forty-three minutes?”
“She wouldn’t calm down.”
“She was begging you to let her out.”
“She exaggerates.”
I turned.
There were tears in Vanessa’s eyes now.
But they didn’t move me.
Not anymore.
“Last night,” I said.
“What happened last night?”
Her expression emptied.
“Nothing.”
“Lily told me not to watch it.”
“She’s confused.”
I searched the archive.
11:47 P.M.
Motion detected.
Kitchen.
I clicked.
The screen showed Vanessa walking into the dark kitchen.
Alone.
She looked around carefully.
Then opened the cabinet beneath the sink.
She pulled something out.
A small blue plastic box.
Exactly like the one Lily had mentioned.
Vanessa took one look at the camera hidden inside the smoke detector.
Impossible.
She shouldn’t have known it was there.
Yet she walked directly toward it.
On the recording, she raised her hand.
And smiled.
Behind me, Vanessa whispered:
“Turn it off, Ryan.”
I didn’t.
The video continued.
Vanessa opened the blue box.
May you like
And what she pulled out made every hair on my body stand up.
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