Chapter 2 - THE CAMERA SHE FORGOT
Vanessa lunged toward the television.
“Turn that off.”
Ethan didn’t even look at her.
The footage continued.
Onscreen, Sophie stepped into the kitchen holding a plastic cup.
Vanessa spun around.
Even without audio, her body language changed instantly.
She rushed toward Sophie.
Grabbed her wrist.
Bent down until their faces were inches apart.
Then pointed toward the stairs.
My eight-year-old buried her face against my side.
“I told you,” she whispered.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Derek stared at the screen as though refusing to blink might change what he was seeing.
“Where did that footage come from?”
“Our security system,” I said.
“We don’t have cameras in the kitchen.”
“You didn’t.”
His eyes moved to me.
Three months earlier, after Derek started coming home late and deleting notifications whenever I entered a room, I had asked Ethan to quietly upgrade the security system.
I told myself it was because packages were disappearing from our porch.
That lie lasted about a week.
The truth was simpler.
I was afraid of what I would find.
Ethan had installed two small cameras in common areas.
Perfectly legal in our home.
I had never checked them.
Not until last month, when Derek told me he had spent a weekend in Chicago for work.
The cameras showed him leaving our house Friday afternoon.
They also showed Vanessa arriving forty minutes later.
She didn’t leave until Sunday night.
I had watched exactly ninety seconds.
Then closed the file.
I wasn’t ready.
Tonight changed that.
Daniel stopped the video.
“Vanessa, did you touch Sophie?”
“No.”
Ethan rewound three seconds.
Vanessa’s hand was visibly wrapped around my daughter’s wrist.
Daniel looked at her.
“Would you like to try again?”
Her lips parted.
Derek jumped in.
“Fine. She grabbed her. That doesn’t mean anything happened.”
Noah, who had been silent, took one slow step toward him.
“Be careful.”
Derek lifted his chin.
“Is that a threat?”
“No.”
Noah pointed at Sophie.
“That’s advice from an uncle watching a grown man defend someone who put hands on his niece.”
Luke finally spoke.
“Did either of you threaten to send Sophie away?”
Vanessa shook her head.
Derek answered too quickly.
“I told her there would be consequences if she kept lying.”
Sophie’s fingers tightened around mine.
Luke’s expression never changed.
“What kind of consequences?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because you should understand exactly what tonight is.”
Luke reached into his coat and removed a small notebook.
“I’m not here in an official capacity. I’m here as Sophie’s uncle. That means I’m going to be very clear about where the line is.”
Derek scoffed.
“What, you work for the FBI now?”
Luke almost smiled.
“No.”
That was all he said.
Which somehow made Derek more nervous.
Marcus flipped open the loan folder.
“Here’s the part you should be worrying about.”
He placed three documents on the table.
Three financial statements.
Each carried Derek’s signature.
“You represented that your company had no undisclosed related-party transactions exceeding fifty thousand dollars.”
Derek glanced at Vanessa.
For the first time that night, I saw fear pass between them.
It lasted less than a second.
But Marcus saw it too.
“So there is something,” he said.
“There’s nothing.”
Daniel leaned back against the table.
“Then you won’t mind answering a simple question.”
Derek said nothing.
Daniel turned toward Vanessa.
“What is Silver Vale Consulting?”
Vanessa went pale.
Derek’s voice dropped.
“Claire.”
I looked at him.
“What did you do?”
He started toward me.
Noah moved between us immediately.
Derek stopped.
Vanessa grabbed her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You’re free to leave.”
She froze.
“But before you do,” he added, “you should know Ethan has copies of everything.”
“What everything?”
Ethan turned his laptop around.
A spreadsheet filled the screen.
Payments.
Transfers.
Invoices.
More than $430,000 had moved from Derek’s company to Silver Vale Consulting over fourteen months.
The owner listed on the account was Vanessa Reed.
My husband’s mistress.
Vanessa stared at Derek.
May you like
“You said she didn’t know.”
And just like that, the night stopped being about a ripped dress.
