Chapter 3: The Footage She Thought Was Gone
I stared at Vanessa.
"What exactly am I going to see?""
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
"Nothing. That's the point. You'll waste an entire evening looking for evidence of something that never happened.""
"Then you won't mind showing me.""
Her jaw tightened.
"I have a right to privacy in my own home.""
"It's my home, too. And my mother disappeared after visiting it.""
"Your mother moved to Florida!""
"Then help me prove it.""
Vanessa picked up her phone.
"You're being paranoid.""
I watched her thumb move across the screen.
"Who are you calling?""
"My lawyer.""
"Fine. Call him.""
That caught her off guard.
She had expected me to shout. She had expected another argument she could later describe as proof that I was unstable.
Instead, I walked past her toward the garage door.
She hurried after me.
"Michael, stop!""
I turned.
"Why?""
"Because you're upsetting Sophie!""
I glanced toward the stairs.
"Don't use my daughter to stop me from finding my mother.""
Vanessa's face flushed.
"I have done everything for this family!""
"Then you should have no problem answering one question. What happened in the garage?""
She said nothing.
I opened the door.
The garage smelled of motor oil, cardboard, and the faint mustiness of old boxes. My car sat beneath the overhead light. Along the back wall were shelves filled with tools and storage containers.
Everything looked ordinary.
Almost too ordinary.
I checked behind the workbench, opened two cabinets, and examined the narrow space beside the freezer.
Nothing.
Vanessa stood in the doorway, tapping her foot.
"Are you satisfied?""
"No.""
I remembered the security camera I'd installed six months earlier after someone stole a package from our porch. I'd added a second camera inside the garage because expensive equipment was stored there.
Vanessa had complained that it made the house feel like a prison.
Two months ago, she'd told me the system was disconnected.
I had been too busy to check.
Now I pulled out my phone and opened the security app.
The garage camera appeared offline.
My heart sank.
Then I noticed something I'd overlooked: the recording archive was still available.
The camera had stopped transmitting live footage, but its stored recordings remained accessible through the account I'd created.
I scrolled back to the date my mother supposedly left for Florida.
Vanessa moved closer.
"What are you doing?""
"Checking something.""
"Michael, turn that off.""
I looked up.
"Why?""
"Because this is ridiculous.""
I tapped the recording.
The screen filled with the familiar view of my garage.
At 2:17 p.m., my mother appeared on camera.
She wore the blue coat I'd bought her for Christmas. Under one arm, she carried a thick folder.
She looked angry.
Not disappointed. Not confused.
Furious.
Vanessa appeared seconds later, shutting the door behind her.
I raised the volume.
My mother's voice filled the garage.
"Michael deserves to know what you've been doing to Sophie!""
Vanessa stepped toward her.
"Keep your voice down.""
"No. I've kept quiet long enough.""
"You promised you wouldn't interfere in my marriage.""
"I promised I'd give you a chance. That chance is over.""
Vanessa reached for the folder.
My mother pulled it away.
"Don't touch this.""
"What is in there?"" Vanessa demanded.
"Proof.""
"Proof of what?""
"That you're hurting that little girl.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Vanessa looked toward the garage entrance, then back at my mother.
"If you tell Michael, you'll lose everything.""
Mom gave a bitter laugh.
"You still think threatening people makes you powerful?""
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.""
"I know exactly what I'm doing.""
My mother lifted the folder.
"And there's something else. Something Michael has every right to know about his first wife.""
My breath caught.
Sophie's mother.
The woman Vanessa had always described as a tragic memory from a life that had ended long before she arrived.
Vanessa's expression changed.
"Don't you dare.""
Mom stepped backward.
"You should have stayed away from this family.""
Vanessa moved toward her.
Then the garage door began to rise.
A black SUV pulled into the driveway.
I recognized it from photographs I'd once seen on Vanessa's old social media account.
Daniel's vehicle.
The driver's door opened.
A tall man in a black jacket stepped out and walked into the garage as though he belonged there.
Daniel.
He didn't look surprised to find my mother waiting.
He looked directly at Vanessa.
"Did you get it?"" he asked.
Vanessa pointed at the folder.
"She won't give it to me.""
Daniel turned to my mother.
"Hand it over, Margaret.""
My mother clutched the folder to her chest.
"No.""
He grabbed her arm.
She cried out and tried to pull away.
Vanessa walked to the garage door and pressed the wall switch. The door descended behind Daniel's SUV.
The three of them were now alone inside.
Except for the camera.
I watched my mother struggle against Daniel's grip.
"Let go of me!""
"Give me the folder," Daniel snapped.
"Michael needs to see what's inside.""
Vanessa moved toward them.
"Stop saying his name!""
Mom twisted free for half a second, stumbling against the workbench.
Then she shouted something that made my entire body go cold.
"MICHAEL ISN'T THE ONLY ONE YOU'VE BEEN LYING TO! TELL HIM WHAT REALLY HAPPENED TO SOPHIE'S MOTHER!""
The recording ended.
I stared at the black screen.
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
My mother's disappearance had been frightening enough. But that sentence had opened a door to something I hadn't even known to question.
What had Vanessa lied about concerning Sophie's mother?
I replayed the final thirty seconds.
Again.
And again.
Behind me, Vanessa whispered, "Turn it off.""
I slowly turned around.
Her face was pale, and her hands were shaking.
"What did she mean?"" I asked.
Vanessa swallowed.
"Your mother was sick. She was confused.""
"She knew exactly what she was saying.""
"Michael, please.""
"Why was Daniel here?""
She looked toward the garage entrance.
"He's not part of this.""
"He grabbed my mother.""
"I didn't tell him to do that!""
"But you locked the door.""
Vanessa's mouth opened, then closed.
I held up the phone.
"Where is my mother?""
"I don't know.""
"Where's the folder?""
"I don't know!""
Her voice cracked.
For the first time, I saw the woman beneath the polished smile—the woman who had been hiding something so dangerous that my mother had apparently risked everything to expose it.
I took a step toward her.
"Tell me what happened to Sophie's mother.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"You don't understand.""
"Then explain it.""
She pressed both hands against her temples.
"If you find out the truth, you'll never look at Sophie the same way again.""
My stomach turned.
"What does Sophie have to do with any of this?""
Vanessa backed away.
"Michael, listen to me. Whatever your mother told you, whatever she thinks she knows, you need to forget it.""
"Forget it?""
"Yes.""
"She disappeared after coming here. My daughter is terrified of you. And now you're telling me to forget the one thing that might explain all of it?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears, but she didn't look remorseful.
She looked cornered.
I walked past her and returned to the living room. I needed to get Sophie somewhere safe, and I needed to contact the police.
But before I reached the stairs, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
The message contained only one sentence.
*Michael, if you've seen the garage footage, don't trust Vanessa. And whatever you do, don't let her take Sophie out of the house.*
A second message appeared before I could respond.
It included a photograph.
My mother was sitting in a dimly lit room, her hands bound in front of her.
She was alive.
And someone had written a date on the back of the photograph.
Tomorrow.
I stared at the screen, my pulse pounding.
May you like
Then another message arrived.
*Ask your wife what happened the night Sophie's mother died. You have less than twenty-four hours before she finishes what she started.*
