Chapter 7 - The Woman Behind the Camera
The next morning, someone knocked before sunrise.
Harper Lewis stood on the porch wearing a rain jacket, her camera bag hugged against her ribs.
She had been one of Dahlia's classmates, quiet enough that I'd barely noticed her at the party.
“I don't want my work turned into another screaming match,” she said.
“But the clip online isn't what happened.”
She placed her laptop on our kitchen table.
The video started a minute before the fountain fell.
Dahlia was laughing with two classmates.
Tatum set down an empty plate, looked over her shoulder, and deliberately moved both hands onto the fountain's base.
Then she pushed.
There was no wobbling table.
No accident.
Dahlia pressed a palm over her mouth.
Harper paused the video before my fist appeared.
“I can give the original to the officer handling this,” she said.
“I won't post Dahlia's worst day without asking her first.”
That restraint nearly made me cry.
“Please send it to the police,” Dahlia said.
“Not the internet.”
Harper nodded, but she wasn't finished.
She scrubbed back ten seconds and pointed toward the edge of the screen.
Severin had his phone raised.
It was already aimed at the place where Tatum would fall.
“He started filming before she touched the fountain,” Harper said.
Dahlia leaned closer.
“Maybe he was taking pictures,” I offered, because some ridiculous part of me still wanted that explanation.
Harper zoomed as far as the image allowed.
Severin wasn't smiling at a graduation.
He was watching Tatum.
Outside, tires rolled over our gravel driveway.
May you like
Through the front window, I saw a white catering van stop at the curb.
Tatum stepped out carrying a folder labeled SETTLEMENT.
