Chapter 8 - The Edited Videos
There were forty-three videos.
Marcus downloaded every one before Camille could delete them.
Most were short.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
A minute.
Maya crying.
Maya shouting.
Maya refusing to clean something.
Maya saying she wanted her father.
At first glance, the clips were damaging.
Then Marcus examined them more carefully.
Several started mid-argument.
Others ended just before Camille responded.
One showed Maya knocking a glass off the counter.
The file name read:
MAYA BREAKS THINGS WHEN ANGRY
But Marcus found an earlier video accidentally uploaded from the same sequence.
Camille had been moving Maya’s hand repeatedly away from a sandwich.
Maya finally reached again.
Camille slapped her hand away—not violently, but sharply enough that Maya jerked backward and bumped the glass.
It fell.
Then the second clip began.
The edited version showed only Maya shouting and the broken glass.
Marcus felt sick.
At breakfast, he did not mention the videos.
Rachel had warned him not to question Maya repeatedly.
Instead, he scheduled an appointment with a licensed child therapist recommended by the school.
Maya asked why.
“Because a lot has happened.”
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“Camille said therapy is for kids who make families bad.”
Marcus knelt.
“Therapy is for people who need a safe place to talk.”
“Do you go?”
The question caught him.
“No.”
“Maybe you should.”
Despite everything, he laughed.
“Maybe I should.”
At ten, Child Protective Services called.
The school counselor had made a report.
A caseworker named Evelyn Shaw explained that allegations of food restriction and emotional mistreatment warranted an assessment.
Marcus felt shame rise immediately.
“I should have known.”
Ms. Shaw interrupted gently.
“This process isn’t about deciding everything on one phone call. We’ll speak to the appropriate people.”
“Will Maya be taken away?”
“Nothing you’ve described suggests that is the current plan. You’re actively protecting her and cooperating.”
Marcus exhaled.
She scheduled a home visit.
That afternoon Camille called.
Marcus let it go to voicemail.
Her message was furious.
“You got CPS involved? Do you understand what you’re doing to me? To us?”
Marcus saved the recording.
A second voicemail arrived.
“You are letting an eight-year-old destroy our marriage.”
He saved that too.
Later, Marcus received a message from Darren.
Can we meet? There’s stuff you need to know.
They met at a park.
Darren looked terrible.
“I went through my texts with Camille.”
He handed Marcus his phone.
Months of messages.
Most concerned restaurant money.
Then Marcus found one from February.
Darren: Is Marcus really okay with the school thing?
Camille: He will be when he sees the videos.
Another:
Darren: Maya is a little kid.
Camille: She is the reason Marcus never puts me first.
And another:
Camille: Once she is gone for the year, he’ll finally understand what our life could be.
Marcus looked up.
“You knew?”
“I knew Camille wanted boarding school. I didn’t know about food or locks.”
“You took forty-eight thousand dollars.”
“I thought you invested it.”
“You never asked me.”
Darren looked ashamed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed the money.”
At least that answer was honest.
Marcus handed back the phone.
“I need copies.”
Darren nodded.
“There’s something else.”
Marcus waited.
“She asked me to help clean out your office once.”
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“Why?”
“She wanted a box from Elena.”
Marcus became still.
“What box?”
“Blue metal. Small. Had Elena’s name on it.”
Marcus knew exactly what he meant.
Elena’s estate box.
Birth certificate.
Insurance papers.
Maya’s Social Security records.
Letters.
Marcus had not opened it in years.
“Did you take it?”
“No. I told her that was weird.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus drove home.
May you like
He went directly to the closet where the box had always been.
The shelf was empty.
