I carried Sophie upstairs.
She refused to sleep in her own bedroom.
Instead, she crawled into my bed, placed Felix beneath her chin and kept asking whether Natalie was still downstairs.
I told her she was safe.
It felt horrible saying those words because I suddenly didn’t know whether they were true.
When Sophie finally fell asleep, I went downstairs.
Natalie was sitting on the couch.
Her arms were folded.
“You believe her.”
“I believe she’s frightened.”
“She is grieving.”
“She’s been grieving for sixteen months. She has never been afraid of you like this.”
Natalie looked away.
I continued.
“Did you lock her in that room?”
“No.”
“Did you close the door?”
“Yes.”
“For an hour?”
Her eyes flicked toward mine.
I had never said anything about an hour.
That was when I knew.
I stood there staring at her.
Natalie realized her mistake.
“It wasn’t an hour.”
“How do you know I was going to say an hour?”
“I assumed.”
“You assumed exactly what Sophie was about to tell me?”
“Ethan.”
I walked toward the small cabinet beneath the television.
Inside was an old tablet.
Years earlier, after several burglaries in our neighborhood, Laura and I had installed a modest home-security system.
Most of the cameras were outside.
One covered the front door.
Another faced the driveway.
A third looked over the backyard.
There had also been a camera in the upstairs hallway when Sophie was a baby.
I thought we had disconnected it years ago.
I opened the security application.
Natalie stood behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking.”
“You’re seriously going through footage because a preschooler had a tantrum?”
“If nothing happened, the footage clears everything up.”
She stared at me.
Then she walked away.
That frightened me more than an argument would have.
The exterior footage showed nothing unusual.
I changed dates.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a device listed on the system that I didn’t remember activating.
HALLWAY EAST.
I clicked it.
A recording appeared from eleven days earlier.
The angle showed part of the kitchen and the stairs leading toward the basement.
Sophie walked into view carrying Felix.
Natalie followed her.
Even without sound, something was wrong.
Sophie was backing away.
Natalie reached down and took Felix.
My daughter grabbed for him.