Chapter 2: The Security Footage
Emily led us into the salon's back office, a narrow room that smelled of burnt coffee and printer toner.
She locked the door behind us.
Mom sat on a small sofa, clutching a tissue. I remained standing, my arms folded tightly across my chest.
“Start talking,” I said.
Emily swallowed.
“I've worked here for eight months. I've never seen Vanessa behave like this with a client. She can be rude, but today was different.””
“Different how?””
“She kept checking the time. She asked me three times when your mother would arrive. Then, about ten minutes before Linda's appointment, Ethan came through the back entrance.””
My stomach tightened.
“Ethan was here before Mom?””
Emily nodded.
“They went into this room. I wasn't trying to listen, but the door wasn't completely closed.””
“What did you hear?””
Emily looked toward my mother before answering.
“Vanessa asked if she should really cut it that short. Ethan told her to make it look as bad as possible.””
Mom pressed the tissue against her mouth.
“No,” she whispered.
I felt as if the floor had tilted beneath me.
“Why?””
Emily turned to the computer on the desk.
“I recorded the security footage because Vanessa has accused employees of stealing products before. I wanted proof of what happened during my shifts. The system records audio in the office and reception area.””
She clicked through several folders.
Then she turned the monitor toward us.
The footage showed the back office at 9:42 that morning.
Ethan stood beside Vanessa's desk, laughing at something on her phone.
Vanessa's voice came through the speakers.
“Sarah's mother is sentimental about that hair. She told me she's been growing it for the wedding.””
Ethan leaned against the desk.
“That's exactly why this works.””
Vanessa frowned.
“What if Sarah refuses to invite her mother to the wedding after this?””
He shook his head.
“Sarah won't blame her mother. She'll blame you. That's the point.””
My fingers dug into my palms.
On the screen, Vanessa poured coffee into two mugs.
“And you're sure the pictures will be enough?””
“Sarah's obsessed with making everything perfect,” Ethan replied.
“Her mother will look terrible in those wedding photos, and Sarah will spend the whole day trying to fix the situation. She won't pay attention to anything else.””
Vanessa laughed.
“You really are marrying a woman who worries about flowers and table arrangements.””
“I'm marrying a woman who trusts me.””
The words hit harder than I expected.
Ethan reached across the desk and touched Vanessa's face.
“And once she signs the property agreement, we won't have to pretend anymore.””
Vanessa kissed his cheek.
“Then we can finally stop hiding.””
The footage continued for another twenty seconds before Emily paused it.
I couldn't move.
My father had died two years earlier, leaving me his most valuable asset: a lakefront property outside Atlanta worth approximately $1.8 million. It included a beautiful house, several acres of wooded land, and a private stretch of shoreline where my parents had spent every summer.
Dad had bought it before I was born.
He'd taught me to swim there. He'd proposed to Mom on that dock. In the last months of his life, when the cancer made it difficult for him to speak, he'd asked me to promise I would never sell the property to someone who saw only its monetary value.
I had promised.
Ethan knew everything.
He had held my hand at Dad's funeral. He'd helped me sort through the estate paperwork. He'd even suggested we spend our honeymoon at the lake house instead of traveling overseas.
I turned to Emily.
“What property agreement?””
She opened another folder.
A scanned document appeared on the screen. My full legal name was printed at the top, followed by the address of my father's property.
Below it was a transfer agreement.
The document stated that I would transfer ownership of the lakefront estate to a company called Silverline Holdings LLC.
Two members were listed.
Ethan Miller.
Vanessa Collins.
My breath caught.
“This is fake,” I whispered.
Emily clicked on the signature page.
My name appeared at the bottom.
It looked almost exactly like my signature.
Almost.
The first letter was too narrow. The final stroke was wrong. I had a habit of drawing a small line beneath the last letter whenever I signed legal documents. Whoever had copied my signature had missed it.
“Have you ever seen this before?”” Emily asked.
“No.””
“Then you need to know something else.””
She opened an email folder.
“I wasn't supposed to see these messages. Vanessa left her email open on the computer yesterday, and I saw Ethan's name. I didn't understand what they were planning until this morning.””
She clicked on an email dated three weeks earlier.
The subject line read: *PROPERTY TRANSFER—FINAL STEPS.*
The message was short.
Ethan had written that the transfer needed to be completed before the wedding. Vanessa had replied that she would arrange the documents and make sure I signed them during the honeymoon preparations.
A third email mentioned a notary.
A fourth included a payment receipt for $7,500.
The recipient was a private document-preparation company.
I leaned closer to the screen.
“Who paid for this?””
Emily opened the attachment.
The payment had come from an account belonging to Silverline Holdings.
“Who owns that company?”” I asked.
Emily hesitated.
“I looked it up last night after I heard them talking. The registered mailing address is Vanessa's salon.””
Mom looked up.
“Sarah, sweetheart, we need to call the police.””
“We will.””
I took out my phone and photographed every page on the monitor.
Then I forwarded the emails to my personal account, along with the original attachments.
Emily watched me carefully.
“You're not going to confront them again, are you?””
I thought about Ethan standing beside Vanessa, promising her that I trusted him.
I thought about the engagement ring sitting on the salon counter.
“No,” I said.
“Not until I know how far this goes.””
My phone vibrated.
A message from Ethan appeared.
We need to talk. Come home, and don't do anything you'll regret.
A second message arrived almost immediately.
You have no idea what Vanessa knows about your father's estate.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
If you involve the police, you'll destroy everything your father left you.
For the first time that morning, I felt genuine fear.
Not because Ethan had threatened me.
May you like
But because he had just admitted that he knew something about my father's estate that I didn't.
And whatever it was, he believed it was powerful enough to make me obey him.
