Chapter 7 - THE CARD IN THE CAMERA
Nora looked at me.
I shook my head.
She took the phone off speaker and stepped outside.
Through the window, I watched her listening.
Then she spoke one sentence.
“You don’t get to make me afraid of you anymore.”
She ended the call.
I wished courage looked like something bigger.
A speech.
A slammed door.
Instead, it looked like a woman standing on a porch, shaking so badly she had to use both hands to put her phone away.
Nora gave Maya the recording herself.
She agreed to explain where the letter came from.
Nobody asked her to sneak back into the house.
We had enough people making dangerous choices for me.
The next morning, I returned with Claire for an arranged pickup of essential belongings. An officer stood nearby while we went inside.
Jake wasn’t there.
Linda and Don were.
Linda had cleaned the kitchen.
The floor shone.
The refrigerator magnets were neatly arranged.
She had even placed flowers on the counter.
“You look better,” she said.
I didn’t answer.
My suitcase sat at the foot of the stairs.
One handle was broken.
I climbed to the bedroom and found drawers emptied onto the bed.
Claire started folding.
I went straight to the shelf.
The camera was gone.
“Where is it?” I asked.
Linda leaned against the doorway.
“That cheap thing? It stopped working.”
“What did you do with it?”
“Threw it away.”
The officer looked toward her.
“When?”
She hesitated.
“I don’t keep a calendar of garbage.”
I checked the kitchen trash.
Empty.
The outside bin had already been collected.
For a moment, I felt the old helplessness.
Then Don said, “It’s in the garage. She didn’t throw it away.”
Linda turned so sharply her necklace swung.
“Don.”
He looked at the officer.
“I’m not lying about a stupid camera.”
In the garage, it sat in a box of cords.
The power cable had been cut.
I picked it up carefully.
The storage card was still inside.
Claire exhaled behind me.
We gave the camera to the officer and arranged to have the recording preserved.
As we left, Linda followed us to the porch.
“You think strangers care about you?”
I held my suitcase with both hands.
“They asked if I was safe.”
She laughed.
“You were safe here.”
I looked at the bruise beneath my eye.
Then at her.
“No.”
That evening, Officer Bennett called.
The card contained more than the attack.
It had also recorded Tuesday’s paperwork.
And Jake had said something after I left for work.
“Play it,” I told him.
May you like
His voice crackled through the phone.
“If she reads the rest, we’re finished.”
