She watched the clip again.
Olivia did not.
Once was enough.
Diane looked toward her.
“I am sorry.”
Olivia’s face remained still.
Diane continued.
“I should have believed what was directly in front of me.”
Olivia stared.
“That sounds weird.”
“What?”
“You don't have to believe me because I'm me.”
“I mean…”
She looked at the phone.
“You had evidence.”
Diane nodded.
“Yes.”
Olivia swallowed.
“But before the evidence.”
Diane stopped.
That was harder.
“I should have taken your claim more seriously.”
“Yes.”
“Without deciding it was true before checking.”
Olivia nodded slowly.
“That's different.”
“Yes.”
Diane looked toward the doorway.
Anger arrived now.
Not explosive.
Cold.
She stood.
Olivia grabbed her wrist.
“Don't.”
Diane turned.
“What?”
“Don't go scream at her.”
“I am not going to scream.”
“You have your scream face.”
Despite everything, Diane almost smiled.
“I have a scream face?”
“Yes.”
“Apparently.”
Olivia released her.
Diane sat again.
“What do you want me to do?”
The question surprised both of them.
Olivia looked at the damaged dress.
“I want to go tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I don't want Brooke there.”
Diane nodded.
“Okay.”
“I want Dad to know.”
“Yes.”
“But not while he's driving.”
“He is at the airport.”
Michael had flown to San Francisco that morning for an architectural review and was due home around nine.
Diane checked her phone.
His return flight had landed early.
He was likely in a car.
“I'll call once he's home.”
Olivia nodded.
Then:
“And I want you to watch the whole camera history.”
Diane looked up.
“What?”
Olivia pointed at the app.
“The last month.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn't the first time.”
Diane felt something cold move through her.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Olivia.”
“I started the camera because stuff kept moving.”
“Yes.”
“I thought I was paranoid.”
Diane stared.
Olivia continued.
“My sketchbook photos.”
“The white muslin toile.”
“The drive with my portfolio backups.”
“You said I probably moved things while tired.”
Diane remembered saying that.
Yes.
“I don't know if Brooke touched them.”
“Okay.”
Olivia nodded.
“But I want to know.”
Diane looked at the clock.
One hour, twenty-seven minutes.
Tonight first.
Then history.
“Okay.”
She stood.
“Call Mara.”
Olivia blinked.
“What?”
“Video.”
“Show her the damage.”
“We ask whether she can stabilize it at the venue.”
Olivia reached for her phone.
“And Brooke?”
Diane looked toward the door.
“She is not coming.”
Downstairs, Brooke sat at the kitchen island scrolling through her phone.
She looked up when Diane entered.
“Is she done being dramatic?”
Diane stopped.
Brooke’s expression changed.
Mothers had faces too.
“What?”
Diane held up her phone.
Not playing anything yet.
“Did you intentionally cut the outer panel?”
Brooke stared.
“No.”