Chapter 2: The Footage
The room went silent as the recording began.
On the monitor, Zoe appeared exactly as she had been minutes earlier, standing in the hallway with her pink plate pressed against her chest.
Vanessa's voice came through the tiny speakers.
“What are you doing?””
Zoe's recorded voice answered.
“Daddy said I could sit with him.””
Marcus didn't blink.
The footage continued.
Vanessa stepped closer.
Her hand closed around Zoe's wrist.
“Come on.””
The little girl stumbled forward.
Marcus's face hardened.
Beside him, Vanessa shifted her weight.
“Marcus, you're taking this out of context.””
He raised one hand.
“Don't.””
His voice was quiet.
That was what frightened Vanessa.
Not yelling.
Not anger.
The quietness.
The footage kept playing.
On the screen, Zoe stopped at the kitchen chair.
“Sit.””
The little girl looked up at Vanessa.
“Where?””
“Here.””
Vanessa pushed the chair into place.
Zoe sat.
Then came the words.
“You eat where you belong.””
Grace's hand flew to her mouth.
Marcus stared at the screen as if he couldn't understand the image in front of him.
His daughter sat alone beneath the harsh kitchen lights.
Her yellow dress looked painfully bright against the steel counters.
The recording showed Vanessa walking away.
Then Grace kneeling beside Zoe.
Then Zoe wiping tears from her face.
The kitchen filled with the sound of the child's tiny voice.
“Am I bad?””
Marcus closed his eyes for a moment.
Grace whispered, “Mr. Cole…”
He opened them.
“Keep it playing.””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Marcus, I was frustrated. She had been misbehaving all afternoon. I was trying to teach her manners.””
He turned toward her.
“Manners?””
“She refused to listen.””
“So you dragged her downstairs?””
“I didn't drag her.””
The recording continued.
Everyone heard the sound of Vanessa's heels.
Then the camera microphone caught Zoe's voice.
“I want Daddy.””
Marcus stared directly at Vanessa.
“She asked for me.””
Vanessa folded her arms.
“She was throwing a tantrum.””
“She was carrying a plate.””
“She was upset.””
“She was six.””
Vanessa's expression sharpened.
“Don't make me out to be some monster because I told a child to eat somewhere else.””
Marcus stepped toward her.
“You didn't tell her to eat somewhere else.””
He pointed at the monitor.
“You told her she belonged here.””
Vanessa's eyes flicked toward Grace.
“You're encouraging this.””
Grace stiffened.
“I haven't said anything.””
“You've always had a problem with me,” Vanessa snapped.
Grace took a step back.
Marcus turned toward her.
“Grace.””
“Yes, sir?””
“Did you see Vanessa take Zoe downstairs?””
Grace hesitated.
Vanessa spoke quickly.
“Think carefully before you answer.””
Marcus's head turned.
“Don't threaten my employee.””
“I wasn't threatening her.””
“You were.””
Grace looked between them.
Then she spoke.
“Yes, sir.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
“Grace.””
“You asked me a question,” Marcus said.
“I'm answering.””
Grace swallowed.
“She took Zoe by the wrist.””
“And?””
“She pulled her down the stairs.””
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“This is ridiculous.””
Marcus looked back at the screen.
The recording had reached the part where Grace knelt beside Zoe.
“Am I bad?””
The words hung in the air.
Marcus looked down.
Zoe was still holding onto his shirt.
Her little fingers had twisted the fabric into a fist.
He crouched in front of her.
“Look at me.””
Zoe slowly raised her eyes.
“Did you do something wrong?””
She shook her head.
“Did you want to eat upstairs?””
“Yes.””
“Because I told you that you could?””
She nodded.
Marcus gently brushed a tear from her cheek.
“I believe you.””
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Of course you do.””
Marcus stood.
“You don't need to believe her.””
He looked directly at Vanessa.
“I have the video.””
Vanessa's face went still.
For the first time that evening, she had nothing ready to say.
Then she recovered.
“She grabbed my hand too.””
Marcus stared.
“What?””
“She kept pulling away from me, so I had to hold her.””
“Then why did you lie?””
“I didn't lie.””
“You told me she wanted to eat here.””
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then tried again.
“I didn't want to embarrass her.””
Marcus gave a humorless laugh.
“You lied to protect yourself.””
“That isn't fair.””
“What isn't fair is my daughter sitting here eating cold leftovers while the rest of us have dinner upstairs.””
Vanessa's voice rose.
“She's spoiled, Marcus.””
Zoe flinched.
Marcus noticed.
His expression changed instantly.
“Do not talk about her like that.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“She gets whatever she wants. She interrupts everything. She expects special treatment because you're her father.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“She expected exactly what I promised her.””
He pointed toward the kitchen table.
“One chair.””
Vanessa looked away.
“It's just dinner.””
“No.””
Marcus's voice was firmer now.
“It isn't just dinner.””
He looked at the little yellow dress.
At the untouched strawberry.
At the cold chicken sitting on the pink plate.
Then he looked at the camera.
“How long has this been happening?””
Vanessa frowned.
“What?””
“Her being sent down here.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“It hasn't.””
Marcus looked at Grace.
Grace said nothing.
“Grace.””
She lowered her eyes.
“Yes, sir?””
“Has Zoe eaten down here before?””
Vanessa snapped.
“Grace, don't.””
Marcus's voice cut through hers.
“Answer me.””
Grace looked terrified.
But she nodded.
“Yes.””
Vanessa's face flushed.
“That's not what you think.””
Marcus turned toward her.
“How many times?””
Grace hesitated.
“Three.””
Vanessa scoffed.
“Three times isn't abuse.””
Marcus's expression went cold.
“I didn't say that word.””
Vanessa fell silent.
He looked toward the kitchen monitor.
“Play the footage from last week.””
Vanessa's face drained.
“You can't.””
Marcus turned.
“Why?””
“It might not exist.””
He stared at her.
“Why are you suddenly worried about what the cameras recorded?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
Marcus moved toward the monitor.
Grace stepped aside.
He opened the archive.
Dates appeared across the screen.
Monday.
Thursday.
Sunday.
Marcus clicked Monday.
The kitchen appeared.
Vanessa walked into the room.
A few seconds later, Zoe entered.
The little girl was wearing pajamas.
Marcus's stomach tightened.
“What is this?””
No one answered.
On the recording, Zoe held a stuffed rabbit.
She looked exhausted.
Vanessa pointed toward the same little chair.
“Sit.””
Zoe shook her head.
“I want Daddy.””
The recording ended several minutes later.
Marcus stared at the screen.
He opened Thursday.
This time Zoe was holding a bowl of cereal.
Vanessa stood over her.
“You're not going upstairs until you finish.””
“But Daddy said—”
“I don't care what Daddy said.””
Marcus's hand froze over the controls.
Vanessa immediately spoke.
“Those are isolated incidents.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Three?””
“Maybe more.””
“You said this never happened.””
“I forgot.””
“You forgot?””
Vanessa's eyes filled with frustration.
“Do you know how difficult it is to manage a child who refuses boundaries?””
Marcus slammed his palm against the counter.
Zoe jumped.
He immediately softened.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart.””
He looked down at her.
“You didn't do anything.””
Zoe nodded slowly.
Vanessa watched them.
Something cold appeared in her eyes.
“Fine,” she said.
Marcus looked up.
“Fine?””
“If you want to believe I'm the villain, go ahead.””
She reached for her phone.
“But there are things you don't know.””
Marcus didn't move.
“What things?””
Vanessa smiled faintly.
And this time, there was no warmth in it.
“Ask Zoe why she keeps going into your office.””
Marcus frowned.
“What does that have to do with this?””
“You'll find out.””
She turned toward the doorway.
“Vanessa.””
She stopped.
Marcus's voice was low.
“Where are you going?””
“To bed.””
“Stay.””
She turned back.
“I don't think I want to sit through another lecture.””
“This isn't a lecture.””
He pointed to the monitor.
“It's evidence.””
Vanessa's eyes flicked to the screen.
“And there is more.””
Marcus pressed a button.
The archive window displayed dozens of recordings.
Weeks of dates.
Months.
He stared at them.
His breathing changed.
Vanessa noticed.
“Marcus…”
He clicked on the oldest file.
The screen went black.
Then the picture appeared.
Zoe was younger.
Much younger.
Maybe four years old.
She was standing in the same kitchen.
In the same little chair.
And beside her stood Vanessa.
Marcus stopped breathing.
Because before Vanessa spoke, another voice came from somewhere behind the camera.
A man's voice.
A voice Marcus knew.
“Don't let her tell her father.””
Marcus slowly turned toward Vanessa.
“Who is that?””
Vanessa said nothing.
The recording continued.
And then the mystery deepened.
Because the voice said a name Marcus hadn't heard in years.
His own father's name.
“Victor already knows.””
The screen went black again.
May you like
Marcus stared at Vanessa.
“What does my father have to do with my daughter?””
