Chapter 2 - The Videos He Thought Were Funny
I hit screen-record before the second video vanished.
My hands were shaking so badly that I nearly dropped the phone.
“Rachel?”
Melissa, the hospital social worker, was standing near Lily's door.
I looked at her.
“My father recorded it.”
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“He recorded what he did.”
I opened the next surviving video.
I wish I hadn't.
There are things a mother never wants stored inside her memory.
The video had been filmed from my father's recliner.
Lily was on the carpet.
Tyler was laughing because he thought it was a game.
My father's voice came from behind the camera.
“Come on, horse. Keep moving.”
Lily said she was tired.
Dad laughed.
The video ended.
I couldn't breathe.
Melissa gently took the phone.
“May I see?”
I nodded.
Her expression remained professional, but her jaw tightened.
“Don't delete anything.”
“They're deleting it now.”
“Screenshot the conversation. Screen-record whatever remains. We'll tell the officer.”
I saved everything I could.
Names.
Dates.
Reactions.
That was when the second betrayal appeared.
Family members had reacted to the videos.
Laughing emojis.
Comments.
My uncle Frank:
Richard, you're terrible.
My aunt Denise:
Poor girl lol.
Someone else:
Tyler looks like a little cowboy.
I stared.
They had seen.
They knew.
Maybe they hadn't understood the full extent.
Maybe they'd convinced themselves it was a joke.
But they had seen my daughter frightened and humiliated.
And not one person had called me.
Not one.
Megan called.
I answered immediately.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Silence.
Then:
“I should have.”
“Megan.”
“I know.”
“How long?”
“A few weeks.”
The room tilted.
“Weeks?”
“He posted other clips.”
“How many?”
“I don't know. Four? Five?”
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because Uncle Richard said you knew.”
I opened my eyes.
“He said what?”
“He said you were fine with it. He said Lily was dramatic and you wanted him to toughen her up.”
My stomach turned.
“He lied.”
“I know that now.”
“Why now?”
Megan hesitated.
“Because after the police arrived, Aunt Denise started messaging everyone telling them to delete the videos.”
There it was.
Not confusion.
Not ignorance.
A cleanup.
“Did you delete yours?”
“No.”
“Send everything.”
“I already downloaded them.”
A knock came at the door.
Officer Morales entered.
Melissa explained.
Morales asked Megan to preserve the original files and not alter them.
Then she took my statement.
Hours passed.
Lily eventually fell asleep.
I sat beside her hospital bed and watched her breathe.
At 1:17 a.m., my brother Daniel called.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“Dad's losing it.”
“That sounds like Dad's problem.”
“He says you're trying to get him arrested.”
“I didn't make him do anything.”
“I'm not saying you did.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Daniel sighed.
“He wants everybody at the house tomorrow.”
I laughed once.
“He thinks we're having a family meeting?”
“He says he's going to explain.”
“He can explain to the police.”
“Rachel, there's something else.”
I waited.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Dad wants your stuff out.”
“Fine.”
“He wants it tonight.”
I looked at Lily.
“I'm at the hospital.”
“I know.”
“He knows.”
“Yes.”
That told me everything.
“Daniel, don't touch anything in our room.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Don't let Dad touch anything either.”
Silence.
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“He already went in there.”
My heart stopped.
“What did he take?”
“I don't know.”
“Go look.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Daniel whispered:
“Because he locked the door.”
I stood.
“That room doesn't have a lock.”
“It does now.”
A strange coldness moved through me.
My father wasn't merely angry.
He was afraid of something.
“Daniel.”
“Yeah?”
“What's in my room?”
“I don't know.”
“No. What does Dad think is in my room?”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“Mom's old boxes.”
I stopped breathing.
Our mother, Elaine, had died six years earlier.
Dad had told us most of her belongings had been donated.
But when Lily and I moved in, I'd found three cardboard boxes in the closet.
Old photographs.
Tax records.
Letters.
I hadn't gone through them.
Dad had never mentioned them.
Until now.
“Why would he care about Mom's boxes?”
“I don't know.”
But Daniel sounded like he did.
“Tell me.”
“Rachel, not on the phone.”
“Tell me.”
Another silence.
Then a sound came through his end.
A door.
Daniel whispered, “He's coming.”
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
Seconds later, a text arrived.
Not from Daniel.
From Dad.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MORNING TO DROP THIS NONSENSE.
Then another.
OR YOU'LL REGRET WHAT YOU STARTED.
I screenshotted both.
A third message appeared.
But this one was from Daniel.
Three words:
May you like
Mom left proof.
Then the message disappeared...
