Chapter 2: The Camera Above the Bookshelf
“Get away from her!””
Daniel's voice shook the room.
I caught the arm of the chair to steady myself. My cheek throbbed, and my eyes watered, but I refused to raise a hand to my face.
Not because I wasn't hurt.
Because I couldn't believe my son had done it.
“Daniel,” I whispered, “you need to listen to me.””
“Listen to you?”” He stepped between me and Vanessa.
“I walked in and found my pregnant wife on the floor!””
Vanessa made a choking sound behind him.
“She pushed me, Daniel. I told her I wouldn't sign the papers, and she attacked me.””
“What papers?”” Daniel asked.
Vanessa hesitated for half a second.
“The papers she wanted me to sign. She said she would make sure we never got a penny from her.””
I stared at her.
“That is not what happened.””
“She also said she hoped something happened to our baby!””
Daniel's jaw tightened.
I had never heard such a cruel lie.
In thirty-eight years of motherhood, I had never wished harm on anyone, much less the child I was eagerly waiting to hold.
“That's enough,” Daniel snapped at me.
“I don't want to hear another word.””
Something inside me went quiet.
I remembered him at seven, standing beside Robert's hospital bed with a school drawing clutched in both hands.
I remembered his first day of college, when he cried in the passenger seat because he was afraid he wouldn't make friends.
I remembered working late into the night to pay his tuition.
And now he stood in front of me as though I were a stranger who had broken into his house.
“Daniel,” I said carefully, “look at me.””
He didn't.
“Get out.””
“Son—”
“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!””
Vanessa buried her face in his shoulder.
“Please don't make her leave alone, Daniel. She's elderly. She might fall or hurt herself.””
Even then, she was performing kindness for an audience.
I turned my eyes toward the bookshelf.
A small black security camera sat between two decorative books and a framed photograph of Daniel and Vanessa.
I'd installed it a month earlier.
At the time, Vanessa had accused our housekeeper, Mrs. Collins, of stealing a gold bracelet. Daniel had nearly fired the woman without asking for proof.
I had insisted on checking the security footage first.
The bracelet turned up inside Vanessa's dressing table drawer.
She claimed she'd forgotten putting it there.
Mrs. Collins left the following week anyway, embarrassed by the accusation.
After that, I quietly arranged for cameras in the common areas, including the living room. Daniel knew there was a security system, though he hadn't paid much attention to its details.
Vanessa had apparently forgotten all about it.
I slowly raised my hand and pointed at the bookshelf.
Daniel followed my finger.
“What?””
“The camera.””
He frowned.
“What camera?””
“The one recording this room.””
Vanessa's sobbing stopped.
Not gradually.
Completely.
Daniel turned toward her.
“Vanessa?””
She scrambled to her feet, holding one hand protectively over her belly.
“She's been secretly recording us! Daniel, that's a violation of our privacy!””
“It's a security camera,” I replied.
“You knew the house had a security system.””
“You're recording me without my permission!””
“In the living room of the house where you live?””
Daniel held up both hands.
“Enough. Both of you.””
But his voice had changed. He was no longer shouting.
I reached into my handbag and took out my phone.
My fingers trembled as I opened the security application.
“Mom, what are you doing?”” Daniel asked.
“Showing you what happened.””
Vanessa moved toward me.
“Daniel, don't let her manipulate you!””
He stepped into her path.
“Wait. If nothing happened, we can watch it.””
“Baby, I'm frightened.””
“Then watching it should help.””
I pressed the playback button.
The screen showed the living room from an angle above the bookshelf. Vanessa stood near the coffee table, holding the folder. I stood beside the kitchen entrance, listening.
Her voice came through the phone clearly.
“Margaret, you need to sign these papers before the baby arrives.””
Then my own voice.
“I'm not giving away my home.””
Daniel watched without moving.
The recording continued.
Vanessa slammed the folder down.
“You selfish old woman!””
Then came the sound of his car arriving.
On the screen, Vanessa looked toward the window.
She smiled.
Daniel leaned closer to the phone.
“What is she looking at?””
I said nothing.
The answer appeared a second later.
Vanessa raised her hand and slapped herself.
Once.
Twice.
Then she tore the buttons from her blouse and dropped to the carpet.
Her scream filled the living room.
“HELP! DANIEL! HELP ME!””
The front door opened in the recording.
Daniel appeared.
Then the camera captured him striking me.
The room fell silent.
My son stared at the screen as if he were watching a stranger commit the worst mistake of his life.
Vanessa seized his arm.
“Daniel, listen to me. She provoked me! I was scared!””
He pulled away.
“You hit yourself?””
“I didn't know what else to do!””
“You ripped your own clothes?””
“She was threatening me!””
The video continued.
Vanessa's voice emerged from the phone, clear and cold.
“When Daniel gets home, he'll believe me. Then we'll finally get rid of you.””
Daniel's face drained of color.
He looked at his wife.
Then at me.
His lips parted, but no words came.
For the first time since he had entered the house, he seemed to understand that the woman he had struck was not the person who had attacked anyone.
I lowered the phone.
“Now you know why I refused to sign those papers.””
Daniel covered his mouth with one hand.
“Mom, I…”
I waited.
He couldn't finish.
Then my phone vibrated.
A red notification appeared on the screen.
*SECURITY ALERT: MOTION DETECTED — 9:14 A.M.*
The alert had flagged an earlier recording from that morning.
I opened it.
Vanessa sat on the same sofa, speaking on her phone while she thought the house was empty.
“Everything is ready,” she said.
“Daniel will throw her out tonight.””
A man's voice answered through the speaker.
“Good. But we need her signature before the bank discovers the forged documents.””
Daniel went rigid.
“What bank?””
I turned up the volume.
The man continued.
“Once Margaret is gone, we can transfer the house and collect the six hundred thousand.””
Vanessa suddenly lunged toward my phone.
“TURN THAT OFF!””
Daniel caught her wrist.
“Who were you talking to?””
She stared at him, her mouth trembling.
“Nobody. You don't understand.””
I looked down at the screen.
The recording had not ended.
And a moment later, the hallway door opened.
A man walked into the living room carrying a leather briefcase.
Daniel stopped breathing.
“That's Michael,” he whispered.
His best friend.
The man who had stood beside him at our family Christmas dinner for twelve years.
The man who had helped Daniel choose his wedding suit.
May you like
The man who had once called me Mom.
And the man on the screen was walking directly toward Vanessa.
