Chapter 5 - The Camera Above the Sideboard
I positioned one camera in the open kitchen area and one in the dining room, high enough to look like part of the home security system and far enough away that nobody thought much about them.
For five days, I saw nothing except meals, small talk, and ordinary routines.
On the sixth day, I came home late, poured myself a drink, and reviewed the recording from that afternoon.
Lily was in a high chair with fruit on her tray.
Vanessa stood over her.
Margaret sat nearby.
Lily dropped a piece of bread.
Vanessa leaned close and slapped the tray hard enough to make Lily jump.
Then she said, very clearly, “If you cry when your father gets home, I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Margaret laughed.
I replayed it three times.
Then I watched the next clip.
Margaret pinched Lily’s arm under the table because she wouldn’t hold still.
Lily whimpered.
Vanessa crouched, took my daughter’s chin in her hand, and hissed, “Smile when Daddy comes home.”
I don’t remember sitting down.
I only remember staring at that screen until the room blurred.
There it was.
No excuses.
No teething.
No toddler mood.
My daughter was being terrorized.
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And they were doing it together.
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