Chapter 3 - The Security Footage
The sterile hum of the hospital air conditioning felt like a physical weight, pressing against Emily’s eardrums. She stood in the center of the maternity wing corridor, clutching a tablet in her hand. The screen was black, but she knew exactly what was stored on the device.
""You want to see the footage?"" Emily asked, her voice steady, devoid of the hysteria that usually accompanied such moments. She looked at Preston, then at Vanessa, who was nursing a glass of water with an air of practiced indifference. ""I want to show you exactly what happened in this hallway.""
Preston rubbed his temples, his eyes rimmed with red exhaustion. ""Emily, please. We can talk about this without... without the cameras.""
""I want the truth,"" Emily said, her gaze hardening. ""And I think the truth is in the server. I want a private room. We need to discuss this calmly.""
Vanessa laughed, a short, sharp sound that echoed too loudly in the corridor. ""Calmly? You kicked me in the shin, Vanessa. That’s not calm. But sure, let's go to your little room.""
Preston sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. ""Fine. Let's go to the conference room. But Emily, I’m telling you right now, that footage is doctored. You have no idea what you’re doing to this family.""
They moved to the executive suite conference room, a windowless space designed for sterile, uncomfortable negotiations. Emily placed the tablet on the mahogany table. She didn't need to play it immediately; the silence in the room was heavy enough to choke on.
""Let's see it,"" Vanessa said, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs. ""Show us the 'evil mistress' attacking the poor, pregnant wife.""
Emily tapped the screen. The video began. It was grainy, shot from a hallway camera, but the angle was perfect. It showed Vanessa walking toward the elevator, her posture aggressive. Then, the kick. It was vicious, calculated, a sharp pivot of the heel that connected with Emily’s stomach. The impact was undeniable. Emily crumpled, her hand instinctively covering her belly, while Vanessa sneered at her before turning away.
The video ended. The room was silent for a long moment.
Preston stared at the screen, his mouth slightly agape. Then, he laughed, a brittle, nervous sound. ""Look at this,"" he said, pointing a shaking finger at the tablet. ""You edited the timestamps. You slowed down the frame rate. You made me look like I’m just standing there while you—""
""Stop,"" Emily said softly. She didn't raise her voice. ""The timestamps are accurate to the millisecond. You stood there, Preston. You watched her kick me.""
""He's right,"" Vanessa said, her voice dropping an octave, losing its bravado. She stood up and walked around the table, invading Emily's personal space. ""She provoked me, Emily. I didn't want to do it, but she was getting in the way. You pushed me.""
Vanessa reached out, as if to touch Emily’s arm, but stopped inches from her skin. Her eyes were wide, manic. ""You think you can just humiliate me and get away with it? I have rights. I’m a mother, too.""
Emily didn't flinch. She didn't blink. She simply looked at the door of the conference room, her eyes scanning the empty corridor outside. The silence was absolute. The nurse who had been standing by the nurses' station just minutes ago—the one who had looked so pale, so terrified—was gone. Not just moved to another station, but vanished. The station was empty. The chair was pulled out. The console was dark.
The entire maternity wing felt eerily quiet, as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break.
Emily turned her attention back to Vanessa. ""She's gone, isn't she?""
""Who?"" Preston asked, his eyes darting nervously toward the door.
""The nurse,"" Emily said. ""She was here. She saw everything. Where is she?""
""I don't know,"" Vanessa snapped. ""Maybe she quit. Maybe she quit because she saw you assaulting me.""
Emily stood up slowly. ""That’s not what she saw.""
Suddenly, the conference room door swung open. Raymond Saint Claire stood in the threshold, the light from the hallway casting long, sharp shadows across his face. He didn't enter. He didn't sit. He just looked at the three of them with the cold, detached gaze of a man inspecting specimens in a laboratory.
Raymond reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He didn't hand it to them. He simply held it up, letting them read the name printed at the top.
""Who is she?"" Emily asked, her voice barely a whisper.
""Her name is Sarah,"" Raymond said, his voice smooth but laced with steel. ""She’s not a nurse. And she hasn't been working the maternity floor for the last six months.""
Preston paled. ""Raymond, what are you talking about?""
Raymond stepped further into the room, closing the distance between them. He looked at Preston with a mixture of pity and disgust. ""She was hired by my security firm six months ago, Preston. To watch you. To monitor your movements, your finances, and your... extracurricular activities.""
Vanessa stiffened. ""What are you saying?""
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Raymond turned his gaze to Vanessa, his eyes cold enough to freeze water. ""Sarah was tasked with gathering evidence regarding your relationship with my niece’s husband. And the footage on that tablet?"" Raymond nodded toward the screen. ""It’s not the first time she’s recorded you. She’s been recording everything for a long time.""
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. ""The affair didn't start when Emily got pregnant, Vanessa. It started before Emily was even born."""
