Chapter 2 - THE FIRST VIDEO
“Your father is going to marry me, Sofia…”
The words came through the speakers again.
“…and when he does, I’m going to make sure you and your sister are no longer living here.”
I stopped breathing.
On the monitor, six-year-old Sofia sat beneath the dining table, her little face barely visible above the edge of the chair.
Chloe stood several feet away.
She was wearing the cream sweater I had bought her in Beverly Hills.
The same sweater she had worn two nights earlier when she curled against me on the sofa and whispered that she only wanted a family with me.
Now I heard what she had said when she thought I wasn't listening.
Sofia's tiny voice came through the recording.
“Where will we go?”
Chloe answered without hesitation.
“Somewhere nice.”
“I don't want somewhere nice.”
“You don't get to choose.”
Sofia hugged her stuffed rabbit.
“I want Daddy.”
Chloe sighed.
“Your father loves you, but people can love you and still understand that you're becoming a problem.”
My hand tightened around the desk.
Hector looked at me.
“Boss, do you want me to stop it?”
“No.”
My voice barely came out.
“Keep playing.”
The video continued.
Sofia looked toward the camera.
Not directly at it.
More like she was trying to hide the tablet while recording.
“Will Valeria come with me?”
“Of course.”
“Where?”
Chloe smiled.
“A boarding school.”
Sofia's eyes filled with tears.
“But I'm only six.”
“Then you'll have plenty of time to get used to it.”
The screen went black.
I stared at it.
For several seconds, neither Hector nor I spoke.
Then I noticed something.
“Go back.”
Hector rewound the recording.
“Before she says boarding school.”
He played it again.
This time, I watched the background.
Chloe had placed a small leather jewelry box on the piano.
I recognized it immediately.
It belonged to my late wife.
Inside had been her mother's gold bracelet, a family heirloom I had promised would one day belong to Valeria.
My stomach turned.
“Zoom in.”
Hector enlarged the frame.
The box was open.
The bracelet was gone.
My eyes narrowed.
“That's impossible.”
Hector looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because that bracelet is in my safe.”
He turned toward me.
I was already standing.
“Let's check.”
We left the monitoring room.
The hidden service corridor brought us into the garage, then through a locked door into my private office.
I entered the security code.
The safe opened.
The bracelet was there.
Exactly where I had left it.
I stared at it.
Then at Hector.
“That's not the same bracelet.”
He looked confused.
I picked it up.
The gold was duller.
The small sapphire in the center was slightly darker.
My wife's bracelet had been replaced.
Someone had made a copy.
And someone had put that copy inside Chloe's jewelry box.
Hector's expression hardened.
“Who knew about the original?”
“Only family.”
“And Marisol?”
“No.”
I thought about it.
Then shook my head.
“Actually… Marisol might.”
Hector looked at me carefully.
“Because she helped your wife pack it away?”
I nodded.
Five years earlier, after my wife died, Marisol had helped me organize her belongings while I was barely functioning.
She had been there when I couldn't sleep.
She had packed Sofia's nursery.
She had kept Valeria's school uniforms organized.
She had even remembered to replace the batteries in the hallway night-light because Sofia cried whenever it went dark.
And I had suspected her.
The realization made my chest ache.
We returned to the monitoring room.
Hector opened the second video.
This one was recorded six weeks earlier.
Valeria sat on the floor drawing.
Chloe entered.
“What's that?”
“My family.”
Valeria held up the picture.
There were four people.
Her.
Sofia.
Her father.
And her mother.
Chloe stared at it.
“I'm not in there.”
Valeria looked confused.
“You're Daddy's friend.”
“I'm going to be your father's wife.”
Valeria lowered the paper.
“My mom is still his wife.”
“She died.”
Valeria's face hardened.
“She can still be his wife.”
Chloe crouched in front of her.
“You need to stop pretending she's coming back.”
Valeria whispered,
“I don't.”
Chloe took the drawing.
Then tore it in half.
Valeria froze.
The recording ended.
I closed my eyes.
Hector said quietly,
“Boss…”
“Open the third.”
The third video showed Marisol.
She was sitting beside Sofia on the stairs.
Sofia was crying.
“Why doesn't Chloe like us?”
Marisol didn't answer immediately.
Then she said,
“Sometimes adults are afraid of things they don't understand.”
“Is she afraid of us?”
“Maybe.”
“Is Daddy going to marry her?”
Marisol looked toward the camera.
Then back at Sofia.
“I don't know.”
Sofia whispered,
“I don't want him to.”
Marisol pulled her into a hug.
“You don't have to decide that.”
“I wish Mommy was here.”
“So do I.”
The video ended.
That was when I noticed something I had missed.
At the bottom of the screen was a timestamp.
And beneath it, a tiny icon.
A red recording symbol.
“This tablet wasn't accidentally recording,” I said.
Hector nodded.
“Someone set it up.”
“Who?”
He opened the next file.
Then another.
Then another.
Forty-three videos.
Not random.
They covered almost four months.
Someone had deliberately documented what happened inside my house.
And that meant one thing.
Someone had known I wouldn't believe the girls.
The fourth video began.
Sofia was whispering.
The tablet was hidden beneath a blanket.
Chloe's voice came from outside the room.
“Where is the bracelet?”
Marisol answered.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You're lying.”
“I haven't touched Mrs. Vance's jewelry.”
“Then why did I find this in your room?”
A drawer slammed.
Marisol said,
“You put that there.”
Chloe laughed.
“Prove it.”
Then another voice entered.
Valeria.
“Stop yelling at her.”
Chloe turned.
“You stay out of this.”
“She didn't steal anything.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I saw you put the box in her room.”
Silence.
I looked at Hector.
“What?”
On the video, Chloe's voice became dangerously quiet.
“You saw nothing.”
“I did.”
“You'd better learn when to keep your mouth shut.”
The screen went black.
My heart was pounding.
Hector immediately searched the metadata.
“This one was recorded three months ago.”
“Three months.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the screen.
Three months ago, Chloe had first accused Marisol of stealing.
And I had believed her.
I had confronted Marisol.
She had cried for the first time in five years.
I remembered what she said.
I would never steal from your daughters.
I had told her I wanted to believe that.
But I had also told her trust had to be earned.
She had nodded.
And stayed.
For the girls.
The fifth video loaded.
This time, Marisol was speaking directly to the tablet.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“If Mr. Vance ever sees this, I need him to understand something.”
She looked exhausted.
“I didn't protect those girls because I wanted your job.”
She swallowed.
“I protected them because their mother asked me to.”
The video ended.
I stared at the black screen.
“Her mother?”
Hector didn't answer.
Then the tablet chimed.
A sixth video had opened automatically.
And in that recording, Marisol was holding something I had not seen in years.
My wife's old silver necklace.
The one she wore the night before she died.
Marisol looked into the camera.
“She told me if anything ever happened to her, I was never to let Chloe get this.”
My entire body went cold.
Because I had never told Marisol that necklace existed.
And my wife had died three years before I ever met Chloe.
I whispered,
“What did my wife know about her?”
The video stopped.
Then a notification appeared.
VIDEO 43 OF 43 — RECORDED TODAY, 2:17 A.M.
Hector stared at me.
“That was forty-five minutes ago.”
I looked toward the door.
“Play it.”
The screen came alive.
Sofia was asleep on the couch.
Chloe stood beside her.
And in her hand was my wife's silver necklace.
She leaned down toward my sleeping daughter and whispered,
“Your mother should have taken this secret with her.”
Then she looked directly into the tablet.
“Now I know where your father keeps the rest.”
The video ended.
Hector slowly turned toward me.
“Boss…”
I was already reaching for my gun.
“Find Marisol.”
He hesitated.
“She may be in the house.”
“No.”
I looked at the monitor.
“She's already gone.”
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Because on the final frame, behind Chloe, the front door of my estate was standing open.
And Marisol was nowhere in sight.
