Chapter 2 - The Deleted Video
Daniel carried Lily upstairs and locked the bedroom door.
Victoria followed him to the landing.
“Daniel, open this door.”
“No.”
“You’re frightening her.”
He almost laughed.
Lily sat on the edge of the bed hugging her stuffed rabbit, Mr. Moon, so tightly its fabric ears folded beneath her chin.
Daniel crouched in front of her.
“Did Victoria hurt you?”
Lily looked at the door.
“You can tell me anything.”
“She squeezed me when I moved.”
“Anywhere else?”
Lily shook her head, then hesitated.
“She gives me sleepy juice sometimes.”
Daniel went still.
“What kind of sleepy juice?”
“The pink one. She says it helps me not remember bad dreams.”
Daniel had never approved any sleep medicine.
He emailed the recording to himself, then uploaded a second copy to a secure drive. Outside, Victoria was calling someone in a low voice.
Daniel pressed his ear near the door.
“Mason, he came home early.”
A pause.
“No, he has the phone.”
Another pause.
“I know what’s at stake.”
Daniel stepped back.
Mason Reed was Victoria’s older brother, an attorney who had handled two minor contracts for Morgan Holdings. Daniel had never liked him. He liked him even less now.
He searched the phone.
There were dozens of deleted videos.
One thumbnail showed Daniel himself.
He opened it.
The date was six weeks earlier.
Daniel was in his home office, unsteady on his feet, his speech thick. Victoria stood behind the camera.
“Daniel, calm down.”
“I am calm,” he slurred.
Then something crashed off-screen.
The camera swung. A chair lay on its side.
Victoria gasped dramatically.
“Stop throwing things!”
Daniel stared at the screen.
He remembered that night only as a headache followed by twelve hours of sleep.
In the video, he looked drugged.
He opened another clip.
Same thing. Different night.
Another showed Victoria whispering before entering the room.
“Recording now.”
Daniel’s blood turned cold.
He remembered the tea Victoria had brought him on those nights. Always chamomile. Always already sweetened. He remembered waking the next morning with a dry mouth and a headache, while Victoria told him he had been "difficult" again. Each time, he had apologized for behavior he could barely remember. She had accepted every apology with tears in her eyes.
Now those apologies felt less like marriage and more like evidence she had been collecting.
Lily tugged his sleeve.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“She puts drops in your tea too.”
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang downstairs.
May you like
Victoria called through the bedroom door.
“Daniel, the police are here.”
