Chapter 5 - Missing Minutes
The baby-monitor application stored thirty days of motion-triggered clips.
Emily had never cared about that feature.
Now it felt like the most important technology in the world.
Daniel opened the app on his laptop.
“Yesterday,” he said.
They scrolled.
10:11 a.m.
Rachel carrying Sophie into the nursery.
10:43.
Rachel changing a diaper.
11:20.
Empty room.
12:07.
Rachel placing Sophie in the crib.
12:22.
Rachel leaving.
Then—
nothing.
The next clip was 1:31 p.m.
Emily entering the nursery.
Daniel frowned.
“Where’s one seventeen?”
Emily checked the settings.
“The camera was armed all day.”
“If Rachel came upstairs, motion should have triggered it.”
“Unless she didn’t come upstairs.”
Emily looked toward the cosmetic sponge.
“She did.”
Daniel clicked the device history.
At 1:16 p.m., the monitor had gone offline.
At 1:24, it reconnected.
Eight minutes missing.
Emily felt cold.
“Someone unplugged it.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“Or the Wi-Fi dropped.”
“Did the rest of the house lose connection?”
He checked their router application.
No outage.
The nursery camera had been disconnected manually.
One minute before Rachel’s door code was used.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Jesus Christ.”
Emily took out her phone.
“We call Marcus.”
The CPS investigator answered after three rings.
Emily explained the lock log, the cosmetic sponge and the camera interruption.
Marcus asked them not to handle the sponge further.
“Put it somewhere secure. Don’t try to clean it or test it yourself.”
“Can you come tonight?”
“I’m already scheduled for tomorrow morning.”
“Someone tampered with my baby’s camera.”
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
Daniel placed a hand on her shoulder.
Marcus remained calm.
“Mrs. Carter, I believe you. What I’m saying is that I need to document it correctly.”
Emily forced herself to breathe.
“All right.”
“Also, do not confront your sister again.”
Too late.
After the call, Daniel placed the sponge inside a clean food-storage container without touching the stained surface.
Emily stood by the nursery window.
“You thought it might be me.”
Daniel looked at her.
“When you arrived at the hospital.”
He said nothing.
“That’s why you couldn’t look at me.”
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
“No. You were scared I might have done it.”
Daniel leaned against the crib.
“For about thirty seconds, I didn’t know what to think.”
The truth hurt, but Emily preferred it.
“What changed?”
“The timing.”
“Rachel calling early?”
“That. And the way she lied tonight.”
Emily folded her arms around herself.
Their marriage had become full of unfinished sentences.
Daniel continued.
“And because I know you.”
“Apparently not enough.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not.”
Sophie began fussing.
Daniel immediately lifted her.
Emily watched him.
“You know what Rachel does,” she said.
“What?”
“She gets there first.”
Daniel rocked Sophie gently.
“She tells the story before anyone else knows there’s a story.”
He looked at Emily.
That sentence landed.
Emily thought of childhood.
When she was twelve and accidentally broke their mother’s antique lamp, Rachel had told their parents Emily had been throwing things during a tantrum.
When Emily later explained she had tripped while carrying laundry, nobody cared.
Rachel’s version had already settled.
When their father’s company collapsed, Rachel told relatives Emily had pressured him for college money.
It was nonsense.
But repetition turned nonsense into family history.
“She did it with Mom’s estate too,” Emily said.
Daniel frowned.
“How?”
“She told everyone I manipulated Mom into changing the trust.”
“Did she?”
“Rachel did.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom left me the house.”
Daniel had avoided the inheritance conflict whenever possible.
Emily could not blame him.
The Carter estate had poisoned nearly every family gathering since Carol’s death.
Carol Carter had owned a large colonial house in Westbridge, Massachusetts, plus shares in the assisted-living company she founded with Emily and Rachel’s father.
The will divided liquid assets evenly.
But the house went to Emily.
And Carol’s controlling company shares were placed in trust for Sophie, with Emily serving as trustee.
Rachel had received a substantial inheritance.
But not control.
She had never forgiven it.
“Rachel asked for the trust documents Monday,” Emily said.
Daniel looked at her.
“She said her lawyer needed them.”
“For what?”
“She wouldn’t say.”
Daniel shifted Sophie against his shoulder.
“Could this be about money?”
Emily wanted to dismiss the idea.
Then she remembered Rachel’s sentence.
If you can’t handle everything right now, maybe I should take over.
“She’s named successor trustee,” Emily whispered.
Daniel froze.
“What?”
“If something happens to me or if a court removes me, Rachel is next.”
“Would a CPS investigation do that?”
“Not automatically.”
Emily thought of attorney Nathan Cole.
“But an abuse finding might give her something to take to probate court.”
Daniel looked horrified.
“That’s insane.”
“Yes.”
Her phone rang.
Nathan Cole.
Emily answered immediately.
“Emily, I’m sorry to call this late.”
“What happened?”
“I received an unusual email from Rachel’s attorney this afternoon.”
Daniel watched her.
“What did it say?”
Nathan hesitated.
“She asked whether an active child-welfare investigation could constitute grounds to seek temporary suspension of a trustee responsible for a minor beneficiary.”
Emily’s blood went cold.
Nathan continued.
“I didn’t understand why she was asking.”
May you like
Emily looked at Daniel.
“Now you do.”
