Chapter 4
I stared at Daniel’s picture until the screen blurred.
“What was Mark selling?”
Detective Bennett didn’t answer immediately.
She forwarded the image to herself, then asked me to hand over the phone so it could be preserved.
“I don’t know yet.”
“You have a theory.”
“I have questions.”
“About my husband?”
“About several people.”
Several.
I thought of Rachel.
Then the anonymous messages.
Then the hidden cameras.
My marriage had suddenly become a room full of doors I had never noticed.
Bennett stepped into the hallway to make a call.
I sat beside Ethan’s hospital bed.
He was eating crackers and watching cartoons.
I looked at his little face and wondered how much he had already seen.
How much had he kept inside because adults told him to stay quiet?
“Ethan?”
He looked at me.
“Did you ever go into the basement?”
His expression changed instantly.
“No.”
Too fast.
I touched his shoulder gently.
“You’re not in trouble.”
He stared at the blanket.
“Rachel took me.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“When Daddy was gone.”
“Why?”
“She said she wanted me to see what happens to kids who don’t listen.”
I felt cold all over.
“What did she show you?”
He started rubbing his fingers together.
A nervous habit.
“She turned on a TV.”
“What was on it?”
“People.”
“What people?”
“Kids.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Were they hurt?”
He nodded.
My heart stopped.
“Did Daddy make those videos?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did Rachel say?”
“She said Daddy has eyes everywhere.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
Detective Bennett returned at that exact moment.
She saw my face.
“What happened?”
I told her.
Every word.
Her expression hardened.
She called another detective.
Within minutes, the case changed.
It was no longer only about child abuse in our home.
More investigators arrived.
Questions became careful.
Technical.
Specific.
Did Mark own external hard drives?
Did he use cloud storage?
Did he travel for work?
Did he ever receive packages at unusual hours?
Did I know his passwords?
Did he have other properties?
Then one question made me pause.
“Does your husband manage a parenting support website?”
“Yes.”
Mark had built an online company called BrightSteps.
It offered behavior guides, parenting courses, babysitter training videos, and private coaching.
He had thousands of subscribers.
Parents trusted him.
Schools shared his articles.
He appeared on local morning shows.
People called him a child-behavior expert even though he had no clinical degree.
I used to be proud of him.
Detective Bennett exchanged a glance with another investigator.
“What?” I asked.
“We found files connected to the BrightSteps server.”
“What kind?”
“We can’t discuss everything yet.”
“Are children being hurt?”
She hesitated.
“That is one concern.”
My stomach turned.
I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
When I came back, Ethan was asleep.
Bennett waited near the door.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be sorry. Tell me.”
“We believe Mark may have been collecting private recordings from families who purchased certain monitoring products through BrightSteps.”
“What monitoring products?”
“Baby cameras. Home behavior systems. Smart nursery devices.”
I stared at her.
“He recommended our baby monitor.”
“Yes.”
The room tilted.
“He told his subscribers the cameras were secure.”
“We are investigating whether they were.”
My knees felt weak.
“So he could watch other families?”
“We don’t know the full scope.”
I looked at Ethan.
“And Rachel?”
“She may have assisted him.”
“Why?”
“We’re searching financial records.”
Money.
Of course.
Mark had always controlled the accounts.
He said I was bad with finances.
I had my salary deposited into our joint account.
He paid the mortgage.
He handled investments.
I didn’t even know how much money we had.
Another piece clicked into place.
Daniel was an accountant.
Three weeks before he died, he had asked me a strange question.
“Do you know where Mark’s company earns most of its money?”
I laughed then.
“Subscriptions?”
Daniel didn’t laugh.
“Ask him sometime.”
I never did.
Now I remembered the look on my brother’s face.
He knew.
He found something.
Maybe financial records.
Maybe payments connected to those videos.
My phone was still with police, so I asked Bennett whether I could call my mother.
She handed me a hospital phone.
Mom answered immediately.
“Sarah?”
Her voice broke.
The police had already contacted her.
“Mom, Ethan is okay.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“I need you to stay somewhere else tonight.”
“What?”
“Do not go home.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know who’s involved.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “Is this about Daniel?”
I closed my eyes.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
Another silence.
Longer.
“Daniel came to see me before he died.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What did he say?”
“He told me he was worried about you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He made me promise.”
“Tell me now.”
“He said Mark wasn’t who we thought he was.”
I pressed my forehead against the wall.
“What else?”
“He had documents.”
“What documents?”
“He wouldn’t show me everything. He said it was safer if I didn’t know.”
“Did he mention BrightSteps?”
“Yes.”
My breath caught.
“He said money was moving through companies that didn’t exist.”
“Did he mention videos?”
Mom began crying.
“No. But he said something else.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘If Mark realizes I copied the files, he’ll come after me.’”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Copied what files?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did Daniel put them?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
I was furious.
At Mark.
At Rachel.
At myself.
Even at Daniel for trying to protect me by keeping me ignorant.
Then Mom whispered, “Wait.”
“What?”
“The blue box.”
“What blue box?”
“After the funeral, I found a key in Daniel’s coat. It had a blue plastic tag with the number 317.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
Detective Bennett was watching me.
I put the call on speaker.
“Mrs. Miller,” Bennett said, “do not touch or move the key. Officers will come to you.”
Mom sounded frightened.
“What is happening?”
“We believe your son may have stored evidence somewhere.”
Mom started sobbing.
I closed my eyes.
Ethan stirred in the bed.
I went to him.
Then Detective Bennett’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“Yes.”
She listened.
Then she looked at me.
“What?”
She ended the call.
“The police opened the locked basement room.”
My mouth went dry.
“What did they find?”
“Computers. Hard drives. Recording equipment.”
I held my breath.
“And blood.”
I stared at her.
“Whose?”
“We don’t know.”
She hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“They also found Rachel’s purse.”
“But Rachel ran away.”
“Yes.”
I waited.
Bennett’s voice dropped.
“Her car is still in your driveway.”
A chill crawled up my back.
“Then how did she leave?”
“We’re trying to determine that.”
Before I could respond, her phone rang again.
She answered.
Her face went pale.
“Where?”
She turned away from Ethan.
But I heard everything.
A patrol officer had found Rachel.
May you like
She was unconscious.
Inside the trunk of Mark’s car.
