Chapter 1
“What did this phone record that has you so terrified?”
Camille stopped struggling among the fallen drink crates.
Her eyes were not on me.
They were on the phone.
That was enough.
Mira was safely against Elena’s chest now, wrapped tightly inside her blanket while Tessa stood beside them with one cheek reddened from Camille’s slap. My daughter had gone completely pale, but she was holding her baby with both arms as though the entire room might try to take her again.
I picked up the phone.
Still recording.
Twenty-eight minutes.
Camille had started it long before I entered.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
I looked at her.
The woman had just tried to reach my granddaughter twice, yet the first time I heard genuine fear in her voice was when I touched that screen.
Interesting.
I dragged the timeline backward.
At minute four, the room was empty.
Minute six, Camille entered carrying Mira.
Elena made a broken sound behind me.
I kept watching.
Camille placed the phone on the stand herself, adjusted the angle, then looked directly into the lens.
“This is what happens when a liar keeps accusing people who are trying to help her.”
My jaw tightened.
On-screen, Mira began fussing.
Camille glanced toward the refrigerator.
Then back toward the camera.
“When Elena comes running in hysterical, everyone will finally see what I’ve been saying.”
Nobody in the room moved.
The recording continued.
Camille opened the refrigerator.
Placed Mira inside.
Closed the door.
Tessa covered her mouth.
Elena stopped breathing normally.
I paused the video.
Not because I could not watch.
Because I needed enough control to remain useful.
I looked at Camille.
“You weren’t recording the baby.”
Her face drained.
“You were recording Elena.”
Silence.
That was the plan.
Provoke my daughter.
Film the panic.
Then show people the reaction without explaining the cause.
Camille had not hidden the phone because the recording was accidental.
The recording was the entire reason Mira had been placed there.
Then Tessa whispered:
“Boss… this isn’t the first video.”
I turned toward her.
May you like
Camille closed her eyes.
And I understood there was far more on that phone than twenty-eight minutes.
