Chapter 5 - The Recording
Detective Elena Ruiz came to my room shortly after sunrise.
She was in her forties, composed and direct.
She did not mention my father’s position.
I appreciated that immediately.
“Mrs. Mercer, I need to ask you some difficult questions.”
“I understand.”
She placed a tablet on the tray beside my bed.
“One of the guests was filming a Christmas toast.”
I remembered.
David’s junior associate, Claire Bennett, had been recording people saying holiday messages for the firm’s social media page.
Detective Ruiz continued.
“She placed her phone against a centerpiece when dinner began.”
I looked toward my father.
He remained silent.
“The phone captured audio from the dining room and part of the kitchen.”
My stomach tightened.
“Do I have to hear it?”
“No.”
“Play it.”
The recording started with laughter.
Then Sylvia’s voice.
“Servants don’t sit with the family.”
I closed my eyes.
David’s voice followed.
“Listen to my mother, Anna.”
Then my own voice.
“David, it hurts.”
My fingers curled into the hospital blanket.
A few seconds later came the sound of Sylvia’s heels.
Then the impact.
Then my voice.
“My baby.”
I turned my face away.
Dad stared at the floor.
David’s voice came next.
“Get up.”
Then my plea for 911.
Then the crack of my phone hitting the wall.
Detective Ruiz stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
I had spent years wondering whether I was too sensitive.
Whether Sylvia was simply difficult.
Whether David’s behavior was normal marital conflict.
Hearing it from the outside destroyed that lie in minutes.
Detective Ruiz looked at me.
“There’s more.”
She played the final section.
David’s voice filled the room.
“I play golf with the sheriff.”
Then.
“I’ll tell everyone you’re unstable.”
Then.
“You’re an orphan, Anna.”
Detective Ruiz turned off the tablet.
“The sheriff has confirmed he has never played golf with your husband.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Of course David had lied.
His power had always depended on people believing he had more of it than he did.
“What happens now?”
“We continue investigating.”
“And Sylvia?”
“She has been interviewed.”
“What did she say?”
Detective Ruiz’s mouth tightened.
“That you attacked her first.”
I stared at her.
“Does the video show that?”
“No.”
I exhaled slowly.
Ruiz stood.
“One more thing.”
She placed a sealed envelope beside my bed.
“This was found in your husband’s study.”
My father looked at it.
I did too.
Written across the front was my name.
May you like
Inside was a document dated six months earlier.
A petition declaring me mentally incompetent.
