Of his anger.
Daniel returned to the bed.
“This isn’t your fault.”
Her lip trembled.
“I tried to be good.”
“You are good.”
“She says I’m spoiled.”
“You are loved.”
“She says that’s the same thing.”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“It isn’t.”
Emily began crying again.
Daniel held her.
For the first time since arriving home, he allowed his own eyes to close.
He remembered Claire’s text messages.
He remembered business trips.
He remembered evenings when he called home and Claire told him Emily was asleep.
Sometimes it had seemed early.
He remembered asking to speak with Emily one night from Chicago.
Claire said she had been difficult all evening and was finally calming down, so Daniel should not disturb her.
He had accepted that explanation.
How many times had Emily been locked in her room while Daniel sat hundreds of miles away believing she was asleep?
Maria waited until Emily calmed down before speaking.
“There’s another thing she told us.”
Daniel looked at her.
Emily lowered her eyes.
“She said there might be a camera.”
Daniel frowned.
“A camera?”
“In the house.”
Daniel thought immediately of the security system.
The Whitmore estate had cameras outside, in the garage, near entrances, and in several common areas.
Daniel had always refused to install cameras in bedrooms or private family spaces.
There was one in the foyer.
Mounted discreetly above the arched doorway leading toward the west hallway.
It covered most of the staircase.
Daniel stood so quickly the chair shifted backward.
“I have security footage.”
Maria raised a hand.
“Don’t access or alter anything carelessly. If this becomes a criminal investigation, preserve the original files.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know the company that maintains the system.”
“Can anyone else access it?”
Daniel thought about it.
“Claire has household access.”
“Could she delete footage?”
“Yes.”
Daniel took out his phone.
He called Marcus Bell, Whitmore Development’s head of corporate security.
Marcus answered on the second ring.
“Daniel?”
“I need you to listen carefully.”
Something in Daniel’s voice made Marcus immediately serious.
“Okay.”
“I need the residential security server at my house mirrored remotely. Every camera. Every backup. Right now.”
“Is there an intrusion?”
“No.”
Daniel looked at Emily.
“Something else.”
“Does Claire have administrative access?”
“Limited.”
“Can she delete footage?”
“She can delete from the household interface, but the system keeps a cloud archive for seventy-two hours.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“Copy everything.”
“Already doing it.”
“And Marcus?”
“Yes?”
“Do not call the house.”
There was a pause.
“Understood.”
Daniel stayed with Emily until the hospital released her.
By then, it was nearly ten at night.
Claire had called fourteen times.
Daniel had not answered once.
He did not take Emily home.
Instead, he drove to his sister’s house twenty minutes away.
Rebecca Whitmore opened the door wearing pajamas and carrying a coffee mug.
Her annoyed expression vanished when she saw Emily’s bandaged wrist.
“What happened?”
Daniel said only, “We need to stay here tonight.”
Rebecca looked at her brother.
Whatever she saw in his face stopped further questions.
“Of course.”
Rebecca adored Emily.
She had never married and often joked that being the wealthy aunt who arrived with inappropriate birthday presents was her life’s highest calling.
She prepared the guest room, found an old set of Emily’s pajamas from a previous sleepover, and sat beside her until she fell asleep.
Only then did Rebecca walk downstairs.
Daniel was standing in the kitchen staring at his phone.