Chapter 10 - The First Crack in His Perfect Story
At the next hearing, Lucas looked as polished as ever.
He had added a pale blue tie that matched the color of his eyes, a detail he'd once told me made him appear trustworthy in investor meetings.
I remembered laughing when he said it.
I wasn't laughing now.
Denise presented evidence showing that someone had altered access and retention settings on our home-camera account after I took Chloe to the hospital.
The provider had preserved relevant records in response to lawful requests.
Lucas's attorney argued that households routinely change software settings and that a technical modification proved nothing about the medical allegations.
That was true in isolation.
But it did not explain the timing.
The judge asked Lucas why he had removed my account access during a family medical emergency.
He said he believed my phone had been compromised and was trying to protect our family's privacy.
“Then why not tell your wife?” the judge asked.
He paused.
It was the first time I had ever seen Lucas search for an answer in public.
“I wasn't sure she'd understand,” he said.
I felt Nora stiffen beside me.
The judge did not react theatrically.
She simply asked another question.
“Did you communicate with a hospital employee regarding your daughter's visit?”
Lucas glanced at his attorney.
Then he said, “Not directly.”
The answer was narrower than the truth he had offered at the earlier hearing.
Denise returned to the timing of his text naming Dr. Collins.
Lucas insisted he had received information through an ordinary family notification.
The attorney introduced a screenshot of an app alert that supposedly included the doctor's name.
For one sickening second, I thought the explanation might be valid.
Then Denise asked to see the alert's creation time.
It was later than the threatening message.
The screenshot could not explain what Lucas had known earlier.
The judge directed both sides to preserve relevant communications and maintained protective arrangements while the underlying matters continued.
Outside, reporters approached us.
Denise answered with a brief statement respecting Chloe's privacy and declining to discuss the ongoing investigation.
I said nothing.
Lucas, however, stepped toward a camera and spoke about his love for his family.
“I just want my daughter safe at home,” he said.
He made it sound so simple.
For a moment, I was back in our kitchen, letting his certainty replace my own judgment.
Then Chloe's face came to mind, white with terror in the hospital hallway.
I turned away.
Later that day, Detective Reed called with an important update.
The camera provider had preserved an account audit trail and portions of historical footage that were not visible through my old app.
She would not describe the content before investigators completed their review.
But she asked me to identify an object visible in one still photograph.
It was a small red backpack hanging beside Chloe's bedroom door.
I recognized it immediately.
Chloe hadn't used that backpack since the start of kindergarten.
It should have been in the closet, packed away with her old school supplies.
Reed asked whether I had moved it recently.
“No,” I answered.
Then I remembered the afternoon I'd returned from my mother's appointment.
The red backpack had been sitting beside the front door.
Lucas told me he was organizing donations.
I hadn't thought about it again.
Detective Reed paused before speaking.
“We'd like to ask you about that evening in more detail.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
May you like
Whatever the preserved footage showed, it had led investigators back to the day Lucas had so generously offered to watch our daughter.
