Chapter 2: The Video She Couldn't Explain
My father's thumb hovered above the screen.
Vanessa moved closer to him.
"Marcus, don't waste your time with that thing.""
He didn't look at her.
"Why not?""
"Because Ethan probably edited something together. You know how teenagers are with technology.""
I stared at her.
"You said the camera was broken.""
She turned toward me.
"Don't twist my words.""
Dad raised one hand.
"Both of you. Be quiet.""
The security app loaded slowly. A spinning circle appeared above the living room camera feed.
I could still taste blood.
My lower lip was swelling, and every time I swallowed, my jaw hurt.
But I didn't care.
I just wanted him to see.
The video appeared.
The timestamp read 4:16 p.m.
Vanessa was standing beside the fireplace. She looked toward the front door, checked her phone, and then glanced at the staircase.
She walked to the mantel and lifted my mother's photograph.
My father leaned closer.
"That's Danielle's picture.""
I nodded.
On the screen, Vanessa held the frame in one hand and examined it. Then she reached toward the trash can.
The next thirty seconds played in silence.
She tore her dress.
She scratched her own arm.
Then she threw herself onto the sofa and began screaming.
A few seconds later, Dad's car appeared through the front window.
The door opened.
He walked into the living room.
And Vanessa pointed at me.
No edits. No cuts. No missing seconds.
The entire thing was there.
My father replayed the moment she tore her dress.
Then he replayed it again.
His face had gone pale.
"Vanessa.""
She shook her head.
"Marcus, you don't understand.""
He looked at her arm.
"Did you scratch yourself?""
"It was an accident.""
"The video shows you doing it.""
"I was trying to protect myself!""
"From what?""
Vanessa pointed at me.
"He was threatening me!""
I almost laughed.
"Show me where. Show me one second where I touched you.""
She stepped toward my father.
"Marcus, you know how he gets. Ever since I came into this family, he's been hostile.""
Dad turned back to the phone.
He didn't answer her.
I watched his hand tighten around the device.
Finally, he lowered it.
"Ethan...""
I waited.
"Son, I'm sorry.""
The words landed strangely. A few minutes earlier, he'd punched me in the face. Now he was looking at me as if an apology could put everything back where it belonged.
I wiped the blood from my chin.
"You didn't even ask what happened.""
"I thought—"
"You thought she was telling the truth.""
Dad took a step forward.
"Let me look at your mouth.""
I stepped away.
"Don't.""
His expression crumpled.
Vanessa seized the opening.
"Marcus, this is exactly what I was talking about. He's disrespectful. You can't let him treat you like this.""
Dad turned sharply.
"Not another word.""
She blinked.
"What?""
"Not one more word.""
For the first time since she moved into our house, Vanessa had nothing to say.
Dad looked down at his phone again. A notification had appeared beneath the video.
*Motion detected — Home Office — 9:42 a.m.*
He frowned.
"What's this?""
I looked at the timestamp.
"Probably another recording.""
Vanessa's face changed.
"Marcus, leave that alone.""
He looked at her.
"Why?""
"It's private.""
"It's my house.""
He opened the clip.
The camera showed his home office. Vanessa was standing near his desk, holding a folder. A telephone was pressed against her ear.
Her voice filled the living room.
"Once Marcus throws Ethan out, we can finally move forward.""
My father stopped breathing for a moment.
Vanessa lunged toward the phone.
"Turn that off!""
Dad pulled it away.
The recording continued.
A man's voice answered.
"Are you certain the boy won't cause trouble?""
Vanessa laughed.
"Ethan doesn't know anything about the money. He thinks his mother left him nothing.""
Dad's eyebrows drew together.
"What money?""
On the recording, Vanessa opened the folder and removed several documents.
"The trust is worth six hundred and eighty thousand dollars. Once Marcus signs the last transfer papers, we can finally access it.""
Dad stared at the screen.
"Six hundred and eighty thousand?""
I looked at him.
"What is she talking about?""
He shook his head slowly.
"Your mother didn't leave you that kind of money.""
Vanessa's voice continued.
"Don't worry. Marcus signed the papers last week.""
Dad's face drained of color.
The man on the phone chuckled.
"Good. Then we only have to deal with Daniel's portion.""
Dad stopped the recording.
He didn't move.
He didn't even blink.
I looked between him and Vanessa.
"Who is Daniel?""
My father swallowed.
"Your uncle.""
Daniel Williams was Dad's younger brother. He had handled my mother's estate after her death and had always been the person Dad trusted with legal documents.
He'd attended my mother's funeral.
He'd brought me a baseball glove for my thirteenth birthday.
He'd told me everything would be all right.
Dad gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
"Play it again.""
I pressed the screen.
The man's voice returned.
"Don't worry. Marcus already signed the papers.""
Dad whispered, "I know that voice.""
Vanessa backed toward the hallway.
"Marcus, listen to me. There are things you don't understand.""
He turned.
"What did my brother do with Danielle's money?""
She shook her head.
"Please.""
"Answer me!""
She glanced at the staircase camera, then at the phone.
For the first time, I realized she wasn't worried about being caught lying anymore.
She was worried about what else that camera had recorded.
Dad opened the list of saved clips.
There were dozens.
Most were ordinary recordings of doors opening, people walking through rooms, and deliveries being dropped at the entrance.
Then he noticed one file.
*Home Office — 3 Days Earlier — 11:08 p.m.*
Vanessa whispered, "Marcus, don't play that one.""
He tapped the screen.
May you like
And Daniel's voice filled the room.
"Are you sure Ethan doesn't remember what happened the night Danielle died?""
