Chapter 1 - THE ELEVEN SECONDS THAT VANISHED
Richard followed Leo’s tiny finger.
The security camera above the staircase blinked once.
Then again.
Vanessa’s face changed.
It lasted less than a second, but Anna saw it.
Fear.
Not confusion.
Not outrage.
Fear.
Richard immediately pulled out his phone.
“The cameras back up to the home system.”
Vanessa stepped down one stair.
“Richard, before you start treating me like some criminal, maybe we should take Leo to the hospital.”
“We are.”
His voice was suddenly different.
Cold.
Focused.
“But first I want to know what happened.”
“I already told you. He slipped.”
Anna tightened her arms around Leo.
The little boy buried his wet face against her shoulder.
His knees were scraped. A bruise was already darkening near his temple.
Anna’s hands would not stop shaking.
Richard opened the security app.
Living room.
Kitchen.
Front door.
Driveway.
Then staircase.
He tapped the recording.
6:14 p.m.
The video loaded.
Anna stood near the kitchen entrance carrying folded laundry.
Leo appeared at the top of the stairs holding his yellow toy truck.
Vanessa walked behind him.
Richard leaned closer.
Anna stopped breathing.
Vanessa’s hand lifted.
Then the video froze.
The time stamp jumped.
6:14:22.
Then:
6:14:33.
Eleven seconds were missing.
The next frame showed Leo already falling.
Anna screamed on the recording.
Richard stared at the screen.
“What happened to the footage?”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“How would I know?”
“You have administrator access.”
“So do you.”
“I was driving home.”
“And Anna lives here.”
Anna looked at her.
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
Vanessa gave a brittle laugh.
“You’ve hated me since Richard proposed.”
“This isn’t about your engagement.”
“No? You’ve spent months trying to convince him I’m bad for Leo.”
“Because Leo is afraid of you.”
“He’s two!”
Leo suddenly whimpered.
Vanessa stopped.
Everyone did.
The little boy lifted his head from Anna’s shoulder.
When he saw Vanessa, he immediately tucked his face back into Anna’s neck.
Richard noticed.
His jaw tightened.
Vanessa noticed that too.
“This is ridiculous,” she snapped. “A toddler is upset after falling down the stairs. That proves nothing.”
Richard looked again at the missing eleven seconds.
“No.”
He put the phone in his pocket.
“But somebody deleted part of the recording.”
Vanessa’s expression hardened.
“We need to go to the emergency room.”
For once, Anna agreed.
Twenty minutes later, Leo was being examined at St. Matthew’s Children’s Hospital.
No broken bones.
Mild concussion.
Deep bruising.
The doctor wanted him observed overnight.
Richard sat beside Leo’s hospital bed, pale and silent.
Vanessa stood by the window.
Anna stayed near the door.
Nobody spoke until Richard’s phone rang.
Home security company.
He answered immediately.
“Yes?”
A pause.
His eyes narrowed.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Can you recover it?”
Vanessa looked toward him.
Anna watched her.
Richard stood slowly.
“What do you mean it wasn’t deleted through my account?”
Vanessa’s face lost color.
Richard continued.
“Which account?”
Silence.
Then he turned toward Vanessa.
The look on his face made her step backward.
“The technician says the staircase footage was manually deleted at 6:16.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“So?”
“The account used belongs to you.”
Anna stopped breathing.
Vanessa immediately shook her head.
“No.”
Richard held up the phone.
“They have the login.”
“Someone could have used my password.”
“Your account requires facial verification.”
Vanessa said nothing.
Richard stepped closer.
“Did you delete those eleven seconds?”
“No.”
“Vanessa.”
“No!”
Leo stirred in the bed.
Anna moved toward him.
Richard lowered his voice.
“Then somebody went to a lot of trouble to make it look like you did.”
Vanessa’s expression shifted.
And suddenly Anna realized something even worse.
Vanessa was frightened.
But not because Richard had caught her.
She was frightened because she believed someone else had access to the cameras.
Then Richard’s phone buzzed.
A message from the security company.
One sentence.
WE FOUND A SECOND BACKUP.
Richard opened it.
The file had not been stored in the home system.
It had been automatically uploaded to an old cloud account.
An account Richard had not used in three years.
The account had one name attached to it.
May you like
His dead wife.
Emma.
