Chapter 1: The Woman on the Screen
The first thing Vanessa did was try to unplug the projector.
The second thing she did was scream my mother's name.
But by then, two hundred people had already seen her face.
My mother's face.
On the enormous screen behind Brielle, the woman I had buried six years earlier was sitting in the familiar blue armchair from our old living room. Her hair was tucked behind one ear, and a thin silver necklace rested against her collarbone.
I recognized that necklace immediately.
It had been missing since the week she died.
"Turn it off!"" Vanessa shouted.
The sound system crackled.
Caleb, my best friend, stood beside the projector controls with one hand hovering over the keyboard.
"Emily," he whispered, "is this supposed to be happening?""
I couldn't answer.
My mother's recorded voice filled the fellowship hall.
"If you're seeing this, Vanessa has finally stolen from my daughter the same way she stole from me—but this time, I left proof of what she did the night your father disappeared.""
A chair scraped against the floor.
Someone gasped.
My father, Richard, stood near the front row, his face suddenly drained of color.
"Stop the video," he ordered.
Nobody moved.
On the screen, my mother glanced down at something in her lap before looking directly into the camera again.
"My name is Laura Bennett. I recorded this because I no longer know whom I can trust in my own home.""
Vanessa rushed toward the sound booth.
"That is private family property!"" she yelled.
"You have no right to show it!""
Caleb stepped in front of her.
"Mrs. Bennett, I think everyone deserves to hear this.""
"Move!""
She shoved his shoulder.
But the video continued.
My mother lifted a small brown envelope.
"Six years ago, my husband disappeared for eleven hours. When he came home, he was injured, confused, and carrying a story that didn't make sense. Vanessa told everyone he had been drinking. She told me I was imagining things when I questioned her.""
My stomach tightened.
My father had never disappeared.
At least, not according to anything I had been told.
He had always said he spent that evening at the hospital after a minor accident at work.
My mother's expression changed.
"Richard, if you're watching this, I need you to remember what you told me that night. You said you had found something in Vanessa's bedroom. You said you were going to report it.""
My father grabbed the back of a chair.
Vanessa turned toward him.
"Richard, don't listen to this.""
He stared at the screen.
My mother continued.
"Then, the next morning, the documents were gone. So was the money from our joint account. And Vanessa suddenly had enough money to pay off the mortgage on her old house.""
A woman in the second row whispered, "Oh, my goodness.""
Vanessa's face turned red.
"She's lying!"" she shouted.
"Laura was sick! She wasn't thinking clearly!""
My mother gave a sad little smile.
"I know Vanessa will say I was unstable. She has already started telling people that. That's why I made copies.""
She held up a flash drive.
My blood went cold.
The same flash drive I had just found inside the devil costume.
"This contains bank records, photographs, and the original documents. Emily, sweetheart, if you're watching this, I want you to know something.""
Her eyes softened.
"You were never the reason our family fell apart. You were never difficult to love. And you must never let anyone convince you that your father's silence means you deserve less.""
Tears blurred my vision.
Then my mother said something that made my knees nearly buckle.
"The key hidden with this recording opens a safety deposit box at First National Bank. The box is registered under your name, Emily. Inside is the one thing Vanessa has spent six years trying to destroy.""
The screen went black.
For three seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Vanessa laughed.
It was a strange, sharp sound.
"Ridiculous," she said.
"A ridiculous recording from a dead woman.""
She turned toward the audience, straightened her dress, and pointed at me.
"Emily has always wanted attention. She probably found that costume in storage and invented this whole performance.""
I looked at the angel wings on Brielle's back.
My wings.
The straps were twisted, and one of the crystal feathers had fallen onto the floor.
Brielle looked terrified.
"Mom," she whispered, "what is she talking about?""
Vanessa grabbed her arm.
"Get off that stage.""
But my father finally moved.
"Vanessa. Stop.""
She froze.
Richard looked at me, then at the screen.
His voice shook.
"Emily, where did you get that flash drive?""
I reached into my sleeve and touched the plastic pouch.
"Inside the costume you threw at me.""
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in six years, my father looked like a man who had been caught hiding something.
Then he whispered five words.
"She told me it was destroyed.""
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And Vanessa slapped him.
Right there, in front of everyone.
