Chapter 2 - THE VIDEO THEY DIDN'T EXPECT
The first night after the arrest was the longest night of my life.
I didn't sleep.
I sat in my mother's guest room with an ice pack against my cheek while my father paced through the hallway.
He had heard what happened.
He wanted to go to the Harrington house himself.
My mother wouldn't let him.
"Let the lawyers handle it," she kept saying.
My father disagreed.
"That family thinks money makes them untouchable."
I stared at my wedding ring.
Three days.
I'd been married for three days.
And already I was sitting in my parents' house wondering whether my husband would become a stranger in court.
At two in the morning, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice said, "Mrs. Harrington?"
I froze.
"Who is this?"
"My name is Daniel Cross. I'm an attorney representing Callan."
I sat up.
"Why are you calling me?"
"Because I think you need to understand the situation."
"What situation?"
"The Harrington family intends to claim you deliberately injured your husband."
I closed my eyes.
"I didn't."
"I know."
My eyes opened.
"You know?"
"I've reviewed the initial police report."
"Then you know the pan fell."
"Yes."
I waited.
He continued.
"But the family has already contacted witnesses."
"What witnesses?"
"Everyone at the table."
My stomach tightened.
"They'll say you were angry."
"I was."
"They'll say you threatened Brooklyn."
"I didn't."
"They'll say you deliberately threw the pan."
"I didn't."
Silence.
Then he said something that changed everything.
"However, there's another problem."
"What?"
"The kitchen camera."
My heart started pounding.
"You know about it?"
"Yes."
"Then get the footage."
"I've tried."
"Why?"
"The system belongs to Melissa Harrington."
I frowned.
"Can't police seize it?"
"They can request it."
"Did they?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"Melissa claims the camera wasn't recording."
I stared at the wall.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
I remembered the blinking red light.
"I saw it."
"So did the officers."
"Then why isn't it being used?"
Daniel sighed.
"Because the footage hasn't been produced."
I understood.
They were hiding it.
I got out of bed.
"Where is the system?"
"Why?"
"I know where the camera was."
"That isn't enough."
"I know the house."
I thought about every room.
The kitchen.
The pantry.
The hallway.
The security office beside the garage.
Then I remembered something.
Melissa had once complained about her security company.
She had said the backup recorder was in a locked cabinet downstairs.
I told Daniel.
He became quiet.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll speak with the police."
He paused.
"Don't go there yourself."
"I won't."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
The next morning, a detective came to my parents' house.
Her name was Detective Laura Bennett.
She sat across from me at the kitchen table.
"Tell me everything again."
I did.
She listened.
Then she placed a photograph on the table.
It showed the Harrington kitchen.
The camera was visible.
"That's the one."
Detective Bennett nodded.
"The camera was active."
My heart jumped.
"So the video exists."
"We believe so."
"What happened?"
"The recording system was disconnected approximately twenty minutes after officers arrived."
"By whom?"
She looked at me.
"That's what we're investigating."
I felt a strange chill.
Someone had intentionally disconnected the system.
"Can you get the footage?"
"We're trying."
"Please."
"We will."
Then she asked:
"Do you know anyone who might have access?"
I thought.
"Melissa."
"Anyone else?"
"Callan."
"Brooklyn?"
"Possibly."
Detective Bennett wrote something down.
Then she looked at me.
"There's another detail."
"What?"
"Your husband's medical report doesn't match the family's statement."
I stared.
"What do you mean?"
"The injury is consistent with accidental contact."
I exhaled.
"Then why—"
"Because someone told the police you deliberately threw the pan."
"Who?"
"Your mother-in-law."
Of course.
I looked down.
Detective Bennett continued.
"But there's a bigger issue."
She placed another photograph on the table.
It showed the kitchen counter.
Near the camera.
There was a small black device.
"What is that?"
"A secondary storage unit."
I frowned.
"What's significant about it?"
"It records independently."
My heart stopped.
"So even if they disconnect the main system..."
"The backup may still exist."
I stared at her.
"Can you get it?"
"We have a warrant request pending."
I nodded.
For the first time in two days, I felt hope.
But then my phone buzzed.
A message from Callan.
We need to talk.
I didn't answer.
Another message appeared.
I know you didn't mean to hurt me.
I stared at the screen.
Then another.
Please don't let my family destroy our marriage.
My heart hurt.
Because buried beneath the fear and anger was something I hated admitting.
I still loved him.
Or perhaps I loved the man I believed he had been.
I typed:
Tell the truth.
His reply came almost immediately.
I will.
Then:
But you need to understand what you're up against.
I waited.
My mother has been planning something for years.
I stared at those words.
May you like
Before I could respond, another message arrived.
The camera isn't the only thing she is hiding.
