Chapter 2 - WHAT THE CAMERA SAW

Grant did not ask Emily to repeat herself.

He came up the staircase, placed one hand carefully around her waist, and asked the question that mattered first.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don't think so.”

“Any pain?”

“No.”

“Contractions?”

“No.”

“Then we're going to the hospital anyway.”

Vanessa exhaled impatiently.

“Grant, she didn't fall.”

He turned toward his sister.

“I wasn't asking you.”

The words were quiet.

That made them worse.

Vanessa's mouth closed.

Grant helped Emily downstairs while Lena collected the scattered papers without reading them. Emily hated the weakness in her knees. She hated that every tiny sensation inside her abdomen suddenly felt like a warning. Most of all, she hated the way Vanessa followed them as though she still belonged in the conversation.

Grant's mother appeared from the drawing room before they reached the foyer.

Margaret Parker was sixty-seven, silver-haired, elegant, and still capable of making executives twice her size sit straighter with a look.

“What happened?”

“Emily nearly fell,” Vanessa said.

Emily stopped.

“Vanessa pushed me.”

Margaret's eyes widened.

Vanessa gave a short disbelieving laugh. “This is getting absurd.”

“There's a camera,” Lena said.

Everyone looked at her.

Lena rarely interrupted a Parker family argument.

That evening she did it twice.

Grant turned toward the security office at the back of the mansion.

“Call Marcus. Tell him not to overwrite or export anything until I see the original recording.”

Vanessa's head snapped toward him.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“You're going to conduct an investigation because Emily tripped?”

Emily felt Grant's arm tighten around her.

“My pregnant wife says someone put a hand on her back while she was standing above a staircase. I'm going to find out what happened.”

Margaret looked from one child to the other.

“Grant, take Emily to be checked. I will stay here.”

“No one touches that footage,” Emily said.

Margaret looked almost offended.

“Of course not.”

Emily wished the answer comforted her.

It didn't.

Twenty minutes later she was lying beneath fluorescent hospital lights while a fetal monitor traced Nora's heartbeat across paper.

The sound was fast and steady.

Beautiful.

Emily closed her eyes.

Grant sat beside her, holding her hand.

Neither spoke until the obstetrician finished the examination.

“No bleeding, no contractions, no signs of placental trauma,” Dr. Reeves said. “Her heart rate looks excellent. I want you taking it easy tonight, and if anything changes, you come straight back.”

Grant nodded as though receiving military orders.

Emily waited until the doctor left.

Then she said, “You believe me?”

Grant looked wounded.

“I believe you felt someone push you.”

“That isn't what I asked.”

He leaned back.

“Emily, Vanessa is my sister.”

“I know.”

“I've known her thirty-five years.”

“And you've known me four.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“It sounded exactly like what you meant.”

Grant rubbed both hands over his face.

“I am trying not to decide what happened before I see what actually happened.”

Emily looked toward the monitor.

“That sounds reasonable until you're the person who almost went down the stairs.”

He had no answer.

At 10:43 p.m., Marcus Hale, the Parker family's security director, called Grant.

Grant put the call on speaker.

“I preserved the original recording,” Marcus said. “And the backup.”

“Did you watch it?”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Emily sat straighter.

“What does it show?”

Another pause.

Marcus chose his words carefully.

“Mrs. Parker is walking down the staircase with a folder. Ms. Parker approaches from behind. There appears to be an argument. Ms. Parker reaches for the folder twice.”

“And then?”

“Mrs. Parker turns away and begins descending.”

Emily's hand tightened around Grant's.

“Marcus.”

“Ms. Parker extends her right hand.”

Grant's face changed.

“Where?”

“Toward Emily's upper back.”

“Does she make contact?”

“Yes.”

Emily stopped breathing.

Grant looked at the floor.

Marcus continued.

“Immediately after contact, Emily moves forward sharply and catches the railing.”

The hospital room seemed to become very small.

Grant asked, “Could Vanessa have been trying to catch her?”

Marcus hesitated.

“I can't tell you intent from a camera angle.”

Emily closed her eyes.

“But?”

“The movement begins before Emily loses balance.”

Grant said nothing.

Marcus added, “There's something else.”

Emily opened her eyes.

“After Lena reaches them, Vanessa looks directly at the stair camera.”

“We know.”

“No. I mean she looks at it before Grant enters the hall. Then, seven minutes after you leave for the hospital, she comes into the security office.”

Grant stood.

“What?”

“She asked me whether the stair cameras record continuously.”

Emily felt cold.

“What did you tell her?”

“That they do.”

“And then?”

“She asked how long footage is retained.”

Grant's jaw hardened.

“What exactly did she say?”

Marcus was silent long enough that Emily already knew the answer would matter.

“She asked whether a recording could be deleted if it involved a private family matter.”

Grant turned away.

Emily watched the last trace of doubt leave his posture.

“Did she ask you to delete it?”

“Not directly.”

“That means yes.”

“She said your mother would prefer the incident not become part of the permanent security archive.”

Grant stared at the wall.

“Did my mother actually tell you that?”

“No.”

Emily's stomach tightened.

Not from pain.

From recognition.

Vanessa had not merely panicked on the staircase.

She had tried to learn whether the evidence could disappear.

Grant ended the call and stood motionless.

Emily waited.

Finally he said, “What was in the folder?”

She told him.

The missing $2.4 million.

Harbor & Finch.

The foundation invoices.

Rivergate Towers.

And the fact that Vanessa had somehow known exactly which pages Emily was carrying downstairs.

Grant listened without interrupting.

When Emily finished, his face had gone pale.

“Rivergate?”

“You know the name?”

“We had problems there eighteen months ago.”

“What kind of problems?”

Grant looked at her.

“Structural ones.”

A knock interrupted them.

A nurse entered carrying discharge papers.

By the time she left, Grant was already reaching for his coat.

Emily caught his wrist.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the house.”

“We're going together.”

“No.”

“Grant.”

“You're eight months pregnant and somebody may have just tried to push you down a staircase.”

Emily swung her legs off the bed.

“And somebody may have stolen millions of dollars from families who lost their homes.”

“Emily—”

“That folder is still in your house.”

He froze.

The hospital monitor had proved their daughter was safe.

The security camera had proved Emily had not imagined the hand.

But the thing that frightened her most was what Grant had just told her.

Rivergate Towers had structural problems.

And Vanessa had been willing to risk almost anything to stop a page bearing that name from reaching her brother.