Chapter 6 - The Hidden Cameras in the Parlor
“You have no proof I slammed that piano lid!” Vanessa shrieked, pointing a trembling finger toward the archway. “It was his word against mine! A court will never convict me on the testimony of a traumatized seven-year-old child!”
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my smartphone, and tapped the living room security feed.
The 75-inch smart display above the fireplace illuminated.
Displayed in crystal-clear 4K resolution was the synchronized footage from the architectural wide-angle lens hidden inside the living room's crown molding—installed two years ago for Ethan’s safety:
Timestamp 4:14 PM: Ethan is seen sitting on the piano bench, practicing the gentle opening chords of Claire’s lullaby with immense focus and love.
Timestamp 4:18 PM: Vanessa storms into the room, screaming: “Stop that damn noise! Claire is dead and you’re never going to see her again!”
Timestamp 4:19 PM: Ethan politely says: “I’m just playing for Daddy, Miss Vanessa.”
Timestamp 4:20 PM: Vanessa violently pushes the seven-year-old boy off the bench, knocking him to the floor, intentionally grabs the heavy mahogany piano lid, and slams it down with both hands directly onto his extended arm, before kicking the framed photo of Claire face-down and stomping on the glass with her heel.
The drawing room went dead silent.
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Vanessa stared at the screen, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
The undeniable, monstrous video of her cruelty played on repeat, capturing every second of her calculated malice.
