Chapter 4: The Digital Reckoning
Julian didn't wait. He didn't confront Clarissa; he knew she would lie. He went straight to the security firm that maintained the estate’s tech. He didn't ask for permission; he flashed his badge as the primary executor of the estate.
"I need the footage from Tuesday. The foyer. Everything from 4:00 PM to 4:15 PM," Julian demanded.
The technician tapped away at the keyboard. "Sir, there was a glitch. A localized power surge. The server was wiped."
Julian’s heart sank. "Are you sure?"
"Wait," the technician said, squinting at the screen. "There’s a backup. A cloud-based redundancy for the smart-home fire system. It records low-resolution video continuously. It’s not meant for security, but it captures movement."
The video loaded. It was grainy, black and white, but the details were unmistakable. The screen showed Clarissa standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for Eleanor to approach. It showed her waiting until the exact moment Eleanor’s cane slipped on a loose rug—a rug that Clarissa had nudged with her foot just seconds prior.
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Then, the footage showed Clarissa turning to look up the stairs, locking eyes with Mia, and placing a finger to her lips in a silencing gesture. Finally, it showed her rushing down to the body, not to help, but to frame the maid who was just entering the room.
Julian watched the screen, his blood turning to ice. He had almost let his mother's killer take over his life.
