Chapter 16 - What the Camera Heard
The recording lasted thirty-eight seconds.
Ortiz brought a secure copy to a meeting with Naomi, Ryan, and me.
I had asked not to see the attack before I was ready.
She respected that.
First she told us what the technician had recovered and how it had been documented.
Then she played the sound.
My own voice came from the speaker, frightened but clear.
“You can't take it. I'm not the trustee.”
Brianna answered, “She said you would fold if I scared you.”
“Who said that?” I heard myself ask.
A distant woman's voice answered from somewhere beyond the kitchen.
“Finish it, Brianna. We don't have much time.”
Diane.
I knew that voice from birthday calls, holiday dinners, and all the gentle ways she'd taught me not to argue.
Brianna's next words were unmistakable.
“You can make more babies.”
Then there was a dull impact, breaking glass, and my breath catching.
The clip ended before I fell.
I put both hands over my mouth.
Ryan stared at the table with tears slipping down his cheeks.
There was no dramatic music, no slow motion, no perfect camera angle.
It was our kitchen and the sound of someone choosing cruelty.
Ortiz explained that a forensic examiner would assess the recording's integrity and that voices would need to be identified through reliable evidence, not merely our reactions.
I appreciated her caution even while I wished she would tell me it was over.
She also said the internal card preserved a short earlier clip.
It showed the hallway before Brianna entered.
For several seconds the camera caught Diane at the doorway, pointing toward the kitchen.
May you like
Ryan leaned closer to the screen.
His mother was holding the missing recording hub in her arms.
