Chapter 3: The Eye in the Cabinet
Cynthia smiled, a fleeting, triumphant twitch of the lips. She had played this perfectly. David trusted her; he was blinded by his own desire to protect his mother.
Sarah, however, wasn't looking at Cynthia. She was looking at the cabinet.
With her uninjured hand, Sarah reached out, her fingers trembling, and pointed a single, steady finger toward the corner of the room. High above the china cabinet, hidden behind a decorative porcelain vase, was a tiny, black dot.
"David," Sarah whispered, her voice strained. "Check the cabinet. The security footage."
Cynthia laughed, a sharp, nervous sound. "What? That old thing hasn't worked in years. You’re desperate."
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David walked over to the cabinet. He opened the panel and pulled out a small, sleek digital recorder that had been blinking a soft, steady blue. He plugged it into his laptop, which sat on the side table. The room held its breath.
Cynthia’s confidence evaporated. The blood drained from her face as she watched David’s expression shift. He wasn't looking at a crime scene anymore; he was looking at the cold, hard, recorded truth.
