Chapter 2 - Someone Wanted the Footage Gone
Sophie received seven stitches.
The CT scan showed no skull fracture.
The doctor called us fortunate.
I didn't feel fortunate.
My daughter had spent forty minutes asking whether she was going to die because her own uncle had attacked her at a wedding.
That was not fortune.
That was trauma.
A detective named Marcus Reed arrived shortly after midnight.
He was calm, deliberate, and careful around Sophie.
He asked permission before entering the room.
He did not question her immediately.
Instead, he asked me to describe everything from the moment Preston announced his phone was missing.
I told him.
The microphone.
The accusation.
The search.
The phone appearing inside Sophie's denim jacket.
The smile I had seen on Preston's face.
The board.
The impact.
My parents blaming Sophie afterward.
Detective Reed wrote everything down.
Then he said something that made my stomach tighten.
"Hotel security says there may be an issue with the footage."
"What issue?"
"Someone attempted to access the recording server approximately eleven minutes after the ambulance left."
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
My thoughts immediately went to Preston.
But Detective Reed shook his head.
"Your brother was speaking with officers during part of that window."
"My father."
"Possibly."
"My mother."
"Possibly."
"Caroline?"
"Also possible."
I looked through the glass toward Sophie.
She was finally asleep.
"Somebody is trying to erase what happened."
"It appears somebody tried."
"Tried?"
Detective Reed nodded.
"The hotel uses a mirrored backup system."
Relief moved through me.
"The footage still exists?"
"Some of it."
That word landed badly.
"Some?"
Before he could explain, my mother walked into the hospital room.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect coat.
Perfectly controlled expression.
She carried Sophie's little white shoes in a plastic bag.
I hadn't even noticed they were missing.
"May I speak with my daughter alone?"
Detective Reed looked at me.
I nodded once.
He left.
My mother waited until the door closed.
Then she placed the shoes beside Sophie's bed.
"Your father and I have spoken to Preston."
"How generous."
"He understands things went too far."
I stared at her.
"Things?"
"Don't do this."
"Call it what it was."
She looked away.
I stepped closer.
"Say it."
"Evelyn."
"Say my brother assaulted my child."
Her lips tightened.
"This family is already facing enough humiliation."
There it was again.
Family.
The word my parents used whenever they wanted me to surrender something.
My dignity.
My voice.
My truth.
Now they wanted my daughter.
My mother opened her handbag.
She removed a folded document.
"Preston is prepared to pay all medical expenses."
I didn't touch it.
"He is also willing to establish a substantial education account for Sophie."
"In exchange for what?"
She hesitated.
That told me everything.
"In exchange for what?"
"No criminal complaint."
I laughed once.
It sounded nothing like amusement.
"You came to my daughter's hospital room to buy her silence."
"I came here to prevent you from destroying everyone's lives over one terrible moment."
"Preston did that."
"Preston is your brother."
"Sophie is my daughter."
My mother lowered her voice.
"Think carefully."
"No."
"You haven't even heard the amount."
"No amount."
"Evelyn."
"No."
Her expression changed.
The maternal mask disappeared.
"Then you should know Preston has already hired counsel."
"Good."
"And his attorney believes there are serious questions about whether the incident was accidental."
I stared at her.
"He swung the board at her."
"That's your interpretation."
"Two hundred people saw it."
"Two hundred people saw chaos."
My mother leaned closer.
"And chaos can be remembered many different ways."
At that exact moment, my phone vibrated.
Another message from the unknown number.
Ask why your mother already knows the main ballroom camera was partially corrupted.
My blood went cold.
I looked up.
My mother was watching my face.
Very carefully.
I turned my phone facedown.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Who told you the CCTV was damaged?"
She stopped breathing for half a second.
Then she smiled.
May you like
And I knew the anonymous stranger was telling the truth.
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