Chapter 6 - THE PERFECT VICTIM
Rebecca changed strategies fast.
By that evening, she was no longer the woman accused of trying to send away a child.
She was the abandoned bride.
Photos hit social media.
Rebecca sitting alone in her wedding dress.
Rebecca crying in the chapel.
Rebecca surrounded by bridesmaids.
One caption read:
BRIDE LEFT AT ALTAR AFTER GROOM SUFFERS PUBLIC BREAKDOWN.
Another:
FRIENDS CONCERNED FOR CHILD IN CUSTODY OF UNSTABLE FATHER.
I stared at my phone in disbelief.
Mark sat across from me at my kitchen table.
Emily was upstairs with Melissa.
“Diane has media contacts,” he said.
“I know.”
“You need to stop responding online.”
“I haven’t responded.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“You’re still fired.”
“I know.”
“You’re only sitting here because you know where the bodies are buried.”
“Fair.”
I pushed the fake placement paperwork toward him.
“Find out everything.”
He nodded.
The doorbell rang.
Two women stood outside.
County child protective services.
My stomach dropped.
Rebecca worked fast.
They said there had been a report.
Neglect.
Alcohol abuse.
Emotional instability.
Unsafe home environment.
I let them in.
Emily came downstairs halfway through the interview.
One social worker asked her if she felt safe.
Emily looked at me.
Then at the woman.
“Usually.”
The word hit me like a brick.
The social worker leaned forward.
“When don’t you feel safe?”
“When Rebecca is here.”
I said nothing.
Emily kept talking.
“She gets mad when Daddy goes to work.”
“What does she do?”
“She makes me sit in my room.”
“For how long?”
Emily shrugged.
“Sometimes until dinner.”
My head snapped toward her.
“What?”
She looked confused.
“You knew.”
“No, baby. I didn’t.”
“Rebecca said you did.”
The pattern was becoming clear.
Every cruel thing came wrapped in the same lie.
Your father agreed.
The social worker asked:
“Has Rebecca ever hit you?”
Emily hesitated.
My heart stopped.
“Emily?”
“She squeezed my arm.”
“When?”
“When I spilled juice.”
“Show me.”
Emily pulled up her sleeve.
A yellowing bruise sat above her elbow.
Something in me cracked.
I stood.
Mark grabbed my wrist.
“Daniel.”
I looked at him.
“Don’t.”
He was right.
Rebecca wanted me angry.
She wanted me reckless.
I sat back down.
The social workers documented the bruise.
One photographed the note.
Then Emily said:
“She also has a camera in my room.”
Everyone froze.
“What camera?” I asked.
Emily pointed upstairs.
“In the smoke detector.”
I was on my feet before anyone could stop me.
We went to her bedroom.
Mark pulled down the smoke detector.
Inside was a tiny camera.
Not mine.
Not part of the security system.
The social worker’s face changed.
“Do you know who installed this?”
Emily nodded.
“Rebecca.”
My hands went numb.
Mark examined it.
“It transmits.”
“To where?”
He checked the device.
“Cloud storage.”
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
A video file.
I opened it.
Emily was asleep in bed.
The timestamp was from three nights earlier.
Someone entered the room.
Rebecca.
She stood over Emily for almost a minute.
Then she leaned down and whispered something.
The microphone caught it.
Barely.
But clearly enough.
“You’re going away whether your father wants it or not.”
The video ended.
Then another message appeared.
THIS IS ONLY ONE CLIP.
I typed:
WHO IS THIS?
May you like
The reply came instantly.
THE PERSON REBECCA FORGOT TO PAY.
