Chapter 2
I carried Noah inside.
Vanessa followed us, talking too fast.
“He was screaming.”
“He threw the bear.”
“He refused to listen.”
“He needs discipline.”
Every sentence made me colder.
Noah buried his face in my shoulder.
“She took Mommy Bear,” he whispered.
Mommy Bear.
That was what he called it.
Laura had recorded bedtime messages before she died, and the teddy bear had a small speaker in its paw.
Noah pressed it every night.
Sometimes twice.
Sometimes until sleep finally won.
Vanessa hated it.
She said it kept him stuck in grief.
I had believed she meant well.
God help me.
I had believed her.
I set Noah on the couch and wrapped him in blankets.
His lips were pale.
His teeth chattered.
Vanessa reached for him.
“Noah, tell Daddy you were being difficult.”
He flinched.
I stepped between them.
“Do not touch him.”
Her eyes widened.
“You’re taking his side?”
“He’s five.”
“That doesn’t mean he can rule this house.”
“This house was his before you entered it.”
Her face hardened.
There it was.
The truth under the softness.
I called my sister, Grace.
Then I called the police.
Vanessa laughed once.
“You’re calling police over a parenting mistake?”
I looked at the mud on my son’s pajamas.
“Yes.”
While we waited, I took my laptop from my office and plugged in the USB.
Vanessa lunged.
I caught her wrist.
“Sit down.”
She froze.
Maybe she heard something in my voice she had never heard before.
The drive opened.
One video file.
Laura appeared on the screen.
Thin.
Pale.
Beautiful.
Alive in a way that stole all the air from the room.
“Daniel,” she said, “if you found this, then someone hurt Noah for loving me.”
Noah lifted his head.
“Mommy?”
My knees almost gave out.
May you like
Laura looked straight into the camera.
“And if that someone is Vanessa, listen carefully. She is not who she says she is.”
