Chapter 2: The Recording She Couldn't Explain
My father stared at my phone.
Vanessa immediately stepped between us.
"Marcus, don't let him manipulate you. He's trying to make you forget what he did.""
Dad held out his hand.
"Ethan. Give me the phone.""
I hesitated.
My cheek was swelling, my lip was bleeding, and every instinct told me to leave.
But I had spent three years being accused of things I hadn't done.
I wasn't leaving this time.
"Watch the recording first.""
Vanessa grabbed Dad's sleeve.
"Why are you entertaining this? He's eighteen, Marcus. He's old enough to understand consequences.""
Dad looked at her.
"Then watching a video shouldn't be a problem, should it?""
She released his arm.
I opened the security application.
The camera had been installed after a package disappeared from our front porch. Dad had connected it to his phone and mine, although Vanessa had repeatedly complained about being watched.
I selected the recording from 3:42 p.m.
The screen showed the living room.
Vanessa entered alone.
She looked toward the front door, checked the staircase, and walked directly toward my mother's photograph.
The next few seconds made my father's expression change.
On the recording, Vanessa deliberately knocked the frame to the floor.
Then she stared at the broken glass.
She actually laughed.
Dad whispered, "Oh, my God.""
The recording continued.
Vanessa walked toward the couch, inspected her dress, and checked her reflection in the dark television screen.
Then she grabbed the neckline.
Rip.
She scratched her arm.
Then she looked toward the entrance.
And screamed.
The video clearly showed that I was standing several feet away with both hands visible.
Dad stopped breathing for a moment.
Vanessa immediately started talking.
"Marcus, that's not what happened. You don't understand the context.""
He turned toward her.
"What context?""
"He's been threatening me for weeks.""
I stared at her.
"Show me one message. One.""
She ignored me.
"Marcus, you know how difficult he's been since his mother died.""
Dad looked back at the screen.
The recording showed Vanessa falling onto the couch before Dad had even entered the house.
His voice became quieter.
"You told me he attacked you.""
"He was intimidating me!""
"Did he touch you?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Dad looked at her torn dress.
Then at her arm.
"Did you do this to yourself?""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
"Marcus, please. I was scared.""
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Scared? You were smiling.""
She spun toward me.
"Shut your mouth!""
Dad raised his hand.
"Enough!""
The room fell silent.
For the first time, his anger wasn't directed at me.
He looked devastated.
"Ethan, son...""
I stepped away when he approached.
"Don't.""
He stopped.
"I didn't know.""
"You didn't ask.""
His shoulders dropped.
"I thought—"
"You saw her dress, heard her crying, and punched me. You didn't even ask me what happened.""
Dad looked at the blood on my shirt.
His eyes began to fill.
"I'm sorry.""
I wanted those words to make everything better.
They didn't.
A broken tooth doesn't grow back because someone apologizes. Neither does trust.
Vanessa suddenly grabbed her purse.
"I'm leaving. I refuse to stay in a house where I'm treated like a criminal.""
Dad turned.
"Sit down.""
"Excuse me?""
"I said sit down.""
She stared at him.
Then she pointed at me.
"Your son has always been jealous of our marriage. He's doing this because he wants me gone.""
I shook my head.
"You're the one who told me to leave.""
Dad's expression tightened.
"What?""
"She said I had to move out today. She told me you agreed.""
Dad turned toward Vanessa.
"Did you tell him that?""
She looked away.
"We discussed it.""
"We discussed him staying until graduation.""
"Things have changed.""
"What things?""
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"Marcus, I'm tired of living with a boy who treats me like an intruder.""
Dad looked at the broken photograph on the floor.
Then he looked at me.
"Ethan, go upstairs. I'll handle this.""
I almost laughed.
Three years of watching him choose her, and now he wanted me to disappear while he handled things privately.
But before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
A notification appeared.
<text color="secondary" size="xs" weight="medium">SECURITY SYSTEM — NEW VIDEO DETECTED</text>
*CAMERA: HOME OFFICE*
I frowned.
The office camera had detected movement earlier that morning.
I opened the notification.
The recording showed Vanessa entering Dad's office at 9:16 a.m.
She closed the door.
Then she took out her phone.
"Daniel, listen carefully. Marcus is getting suspicious.""
I glanced at Dad.
He leaned closer.
On the recording, Vanessa continued.
"The boy turns eighteen this week. Once Marcus throws him out, we'll finally have access to the money.""
Dad's eyebrows pulled together.
"What money?""
Vanessa's voice came through the speaker.
"The $680,000 trust. Danielle's money.""
Dad went completely still.
I looked at him.
"My mother had a trust?""
He didn't answer.
Then another voice came through the recording.
A man's voice.
"Don't worry. Marcus already signed the documents.""
My father's face drained of color.
He knew that voice.
I had heard it at every Thanksgiving dinner, every family birthday, and every Christmas gathering.
It belonged to my uncle Daniel.
Dad's younger brother.
The man who had helped organize my mother's estate after she died.
Dad whispered something I could barely hear.
"Why would Daniel be talking about Ethan's money?""
The recording continued.
Vanessa laughed.
"Because once the boy is gone, there's nobody left to ask questions.""
May you like
Then she said something that made my father grip the phone with both hands.
"And Marcus still doesn't know what really happened to Danielle.""
