Chapter 2
My father noticed Claire's expression before he opened the second recording.
She had been shouting only seconds earlier.
Now she stood completely still.
Her hands were clenched.
Her eyes were fixed on the computer screen.
"Claire," Dad said quietly, "why do you look frightened?"
She swallowed.
"I'm not."
Maya stepped closer to her mother.
"Mom, can we please go upstairs?"
Dad turned toward her.
"No."
His voice remained calm.
"We're going to understand what happened."
I felt my heartbeat in my throat.
The thumbnail showed Maya in the upstairs hallway.
Beside her stood a tall man wearing a gray jacket.
I recognized him immediately.
His name was Trevor Collins.
He was eighteen.
He attended our school.
And he was the same boy Maya had been forbidden from seeing.
But Trevor wasn't supposed to be inside our house.
Dad had never given him permission to enter.
Claire had told us she didn't want him around because she believed he was a bad influence on Maya.
So why was he standing outside my bedroom?
Dad clicked the recording.
The footage began at eleven-forty that morning.
I had been at school taking a practice exam.
Dad had been at work.
Claire was supposed to be shopping.
Maya and Trevor appeared in the hallway.
Trevor looked nervous.
He kept glancing toward the stairs.
Maya pointed toward my bedroom.
Then she opened the door.
My father leaned closer.
"What are they doing?"
Nobody answered.
Trevor followed Maya inside.
The hallway camera couldn't show what happened beyond the doorway.
But it recorded them entering.
Seven minutes later, Trevor emerged carrying something small in his hand.
He slipped it into his jacket pocket.
My stomach tightened.
"That's my room."
Dad nodded.
"I know."
Maya came out behind Trevor.
She looked around before closing my door.
Then they hurried downstairs.
Dad paused the video.
"What did they take?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
He turned toward Maya.
"Explain."
Maya stared at the floor.
Claire stepped forward.
"Daniel, they're teenagers. Maybe they were looking for something."
Dad turned toward her.
"In Michael's bedroom?"
She hesitated.
"Maybe Maya needed a charger."
I stared at her.
A charger?
Trevor had entered my bedroom without permission.
He had carried something away.
And Claire was talking about a charger.
Dad looked at Maya.
"Was Trevor here today?"
She nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Her voice trembled.
"He came to see me."
"Did I give him permission to enter this house?"
"No."
"Did Michael give him permission to enter his bedroom?"
She shook her head.
"No."
Dad took a deep breath.
"Then tell me what happened."
Maya began crying again.
"I don't know!"
My father didn't raise his voice.
"Maya, lying about something serious can hurt another person. I need you to tell the truth."
Claire moved beside her.
"Daniel, she's upset."
Dad looked at his wife.
"So is my son."
I touched my burning cheek.
The pain had become a dull throb.
But something else hurt much more.
Nobody had asked whether I was okay.
Not Claire.
Not Maya.
Only Dad.
I had been accused of something terrible.
Hit in my own bedroom.
And now I was discovering that someone had entered my room while I was away.
I looked at the computer again.
"Dad, can we check what he took?"
Dad nodded.
"Come with me."
Claire immediately stepped forward.
"Daniel, I think we should all calm down first."
He turned toward her.
"Why?"
She looked startled.
"What?"
"Why should we delay checking whether someone took something from my son's room?"
Claire opened her mouth.
No words came out.
Dad looked at Maya.
"Stay here. Don't contact Trevor until we understand what's missing."
Then he walked upstairs with me.
My bedroom looked normal.
The books were arranged.
My laptop was on the desk.
My schoolbag rested beside the chair.
But as I began checking my things, I noticed something strange.
The bottom drawer of my desk was slightly open.
I always kept it closed.
Inside were my school documents.
College application notes.
A small amount of birthday money.
And a black flash drive.
My stomach dropped.
The flash drive was gone.
"Dad."
He turned.
"What?"
"My flash drive."
He approached the desk.
"What about it?"
"It's missing."
His expression darkened.
"What was on it?"
I swallowed.
"Schoolwork. My college essays. Some old pictures of Mom."
Dad's eyes softened.
Then I remembered something else.
"And a project."
"What project?"
I looked at him.
"Remember the engineering competition I entered?"
He nodded.
"Of course."
For months, I had been working on a student engineering design.
I wanted to create a low-cost home water monitoring device.
Dad had helped me understand the mechanical principles, but the actual design was mine.
I saved my working files on the flash drive.
The final submission deadline was Monday.
My heart started racing.
"Dad, all the project files were there."
He stared at me.
"Do you have backups?"
"Some older versions."
I sank onto the bed.
"The latest version was only on that drive."
Dad sat beside me.
He placed his hand on my shoulder.
"We'll figure this out."
I shook my head.
"You don't understand."
My voice broke.
"If I can't submit it, I lose my chance."
The competition offered a college scholarship.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
I had worked for eight months.
Every weekend.
Every evening after homework.
And now the files were missing.
Dad pulled me into a hug.
"Michael, listen to me."
I tried to control my breathing.
"We're not giving up."
I nodded against his shoulder.
Then Dad stood.
"Let's go downstairs."
When we returned, Claire and Maya were standing near the front door.
Maya had her phone in her hand.
Dad noticed immediately.
"I asked you not to contact Trevor."
Maya lowered the phone.
"I didn't."
Dad looked toward the computer.
"Michael's flash drive is missing."
Maya's eyes widened.
Claire frowned.
"What flash drive?"
Dad answered.
"The one containing his engineering project."
For one second, Maya looked genuinely shocked.
Then she glanced toward her mother.
It was quick.
But I noticed.
Dad noticed too.
"Maya," he said, "did Trevor take Michael's flash drive?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
"Then why did he enter Michael's room?"
She started crying.
"I can't tell you!"
Claire reached for her.
"Sweetheart—"
Maya pulled away.
"No, Mom!"
The room went silent.
Maya stared at Claire.
Her voice shook.
"You said this would be over before he got home!"
My father froze.
I felt my stomach turn.
Claire's face went white.
"Maya, stop talking."
But Maya was already crying too hard.
"You told me nobody would find out!"
Dad stepped forward.
"Claire?"
She backed away.
He stared at his wife.
"What exactly did you tell her?"
Claire opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Maya covered her face.
And suddenly I understood something terrifying.
Whatever had happened in my bedroom wasn't simply Maya's idea.
Claire knew more than she was admitting.
Dad looked at both of them.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Tell me the truth. Right now."
Maya lowered her hands.
Then she said six words that changed everything.
"Mom told Trevor where to look."
I stared at Claire.
May you like
My father stepped backward.
And for the first time since the slap, I saw genuine fear in my stepmother's eyes.
