Chapter 6
The first thing Dad told me was that I wasn't going to face the investigation alone.
The second was that nobody would force me to watch the recordings.
I was grateful.
Because the thought of seeing myself through a hidden camera made me feel sick.
I sat beside him in Grandma's living room.
Lily was upstairs doing homework.
Rebecca had just called.
Dad looked exhausted.
"They're working to identify everyone who accessed the files."
I nodded.
My hands were shaking.
"Did Mom share them?"
He hesitated.
"That's one possibility."
I looked down.
"Why would she do that?"
Dad swallowed.
"We don't know yet."
I felt tears rise.
"She already knew everything about me."
My voice broke.
"Why wasn't that enough?"
Dad moved closer.
"Sweetheart, what happened was a violation of your privacy."
I nodded.
He continued.
"Nothing you did justified it."
I started crying.
He hugged me.
For a long time, I simply let myself cry.
The next morning, Detective Brooks met with Dad and Rebecca.
Later, Dad explained the parts I needed to know.
The recordings had been copied to a private online storage account.
The account was associated with Mom.
But investigators were still examining whether anyone else had access.
I felt sick.
Then Dad told me something unexpected.
"The files include audio recordings of conversations."
I stared at him.
"Conversations?"
He nodded.
"Some appear to involve you and Lily."
My chest tightened.
I thought about all the nights my sister had come into my room crying.
All the times we'd talked about Mom.
All the secrets we'd shared because we thought we were alone.
I covered my face.
"She listened to us."
Dad's eyes filled.
"That appears to be one of the concerns."
I shook my head.
"She knew we were scared."
My voice cracked.
"And she still kept doing it."
Dad looked devastated.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."
I looked at him.
Part of me wanted to scream.
Part of me wanted him to feel exactly how frightened I'd been.
But another part of me was tired.
So tired.
I swallowed.
"Dad, I don't need you to apologize every day."
His expression changed.
I continued.
"I need you to keep protecting us."
He nodded.
"I will."
That afternoon, Lily came into my room carrying a photograph.
It showed the two of us at the beach.
I was twelve.
She was eleven.
We were standing beside a sandcastle, laughing.
I smiled sadly.
"I remember that."
Lily nodded.
"Me too."
She sat beside me.
"Do you remember when we made Dad bury himself in the sand?"
I laughed.
"He was so mad."
Lily giggled.
"Because the sand got in his shoes."
I smiled.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
Then Lily became quiet.
"Maya?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think Mom loves us?"
My chest tightened.
I thought carefully.
"I don't know exactly what Mom feels."
Lily looked down.
I continued.
"But I know the way she treated us wasn't okay."
She nodded slowly.
"Can someone love you and still hurt you?"
I swallowed.
"Yes."
She looked confused.
I continued.
"But love doesn't excuse hurting someone."
Lily thought about that.
Then whispered, "Do we have to forgive her?"
I shook my head.
"Not before we're ready."
She looked relieved.
We sat quietly for a while.
Then she leaned against me.
"I'm glad we're together."
I smiled through tears.
"Me too."
Over the following weeks, Dad made major changes.
He reduced his work schedule.
He stopped allowing Mom to control household communication.
He arranged for us to stay somewhere safe while the home security system was professionally reviewed.
And he made sure we could speak with him directly.
No assistants.
No messages passed through someone else.
If we needed Dad, we could call him.
Anytime.
At first, I didn't believe him.
I tested it.
One afternoon, I called while he was in a meeting.
He answered after the second ring.
"Hey, sweetheart."
I froze.
"Dad?"
"Everything okay?"
I swallowed.
"Yeah."
He sounded concerned.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded even though he couldn't see me.
"I just wanted to ask if you could pick me up after school."
He didn't hesitate.
"Of course."
My eyes filled.
"Really?"
"Really."
I hung up feeling something strange.
Relief.
Maybe trust.
A small piece of it returning.
That evening, Dad arrived exactly when he promised.
He was still wearing his navy suit.
He held two milkshakes.
One chocolate.
One strawberry.
I stared.
"What's that?"
He smiled.
"Peace offering for making you wait three minutes."
I laughed.
Then started crying.
He looked startled.
"Maya?"
I shook my head.
"I'm okay."
He handed me the strawberry milkshake.
I took it.
Then whispered, "Thank you for coming."
His expression softened.
"Always."
For the first time, I believed he meant it.
Meanwhile, the investigation continued.
The document examiner reviewed the alleged signature on the financial accusation Mom had prepared.
The money hidden in my closet was documented.
The security footage was preserved.
And the recordings from my bedroom were examined under strict privacy safeguards.
I tried not to think about the details.
But sometimes the uncertainty overwhelmed me.
One afternoon, Rebecca called Dad with an update.
He asked me to sit beside him.
His expression was serious.
"The investigators have identified another account connected to the recordings."
My stomach tightened.
"Whose?"
Dad hesitated.
"A private email account registered under an unfamiliar name."
I stared at him.
"Who?"
He looked devastated.
"They're still verifying the identity."
Then he swallowed.
"But there are indications that the account may belong to someone in the family."
My blood turned cold.
Someone in the family.
I thought about Grandma.
Aunt Patricia.
Uncle Raymond.
Lily.
Dad.
All the people I thought I knew.
Then I looked at my father.
And whispered, "Who else knew about the camera?"
He didn't answer.
May you like
Because neither of us knew.
Not yet.
