Chapter 7
The phone held one recording Camille had never sent.
That mattered more than all the edited clips.
She filmed it two nights earlier.
Probably for herself.
Or maybe as rehearsal.
She sat alone in the east nursery.
Behind her, Mira’s new bassinet waited.
Camille looked tired.
Not cruel.
Tired.
“I’m not stealing her baby.”
Pause.
“I’m preventing Elena from ruining her.”
I watched without blinking.
“She lies constantly now. She says I move things. She says I turn people against her. She thinks I want her life.”
Camille laughed softly.
“She has no idea how easy her life is.”
There.
The resentment.
Then:
“I spent six years building a place here. One baby and suddenly I’m a guest again.”
My chest tightened.
Six years.
Marriage to me.
Every gala.
Every dinner.
Every time she smiled beside Elena.
All while counting her place.
She continued.
“If Elena breaks in front of everyone, Nico will finally let me manage the house.”
Not comfort.
Manage.
She had said the quiet part clearly when nobody was there to judge it.
Then the final sentence:
“And once Mira attaches to me, Elena won’t be able to push me out.”
I stopped the video.
Tessa had been watching beside me.
She whispered:
“That’s why she kept taking the baby.”
I turned.
“What?”
Apparently Camille had begun volunteering for night feeds even when Elena said no.
Entering the nursery before staff were called.
Picking Mira up when she cried.
Holding her through visits.
Always helpful.
Always present.
Enough that refusing her made Elena look possessive.
I saw the pattern.
Camille did not only want control over Mira.
She wanted emotional proof.
A baby calming in her arms.
A baby smiling at her.
A baby becoming familiar with her scent.
Then she could point to the attachment she created and call it natural.
I felt sick.
“Did Elena know?”
Tessa nodded.
“That’s why they fought yesterday.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
My daughter had not been paranoid.
She had been watching someone slowly rehearse replacing her in real time.
