Chapter 5 - The Doorbell Camera"My house?" Grandma repeated.
She lived in a white bungalow a mile from us, with a crooked porch and a Christmas wreath made of pinecones Mom had painted. Naomi asked for the buyer's documents. While she waited, Dad offered to drive Grandma home. She refused. "I can still make my own decisions, Robert. That's what this entire mess is about."
At our place, Vanessa had invited Denise and two other church volunteers for coffee. They were photographing her destroyed gingerbread display and talking about filing a complaint against Grandma. Vanessa greeted us with swollen eyes and a camera ready for her preferred version of events.
"There they are," she said. "Pearl, are you ready to apologize?"
"For breaking your gingerbread house? Yes. I was wrong." Grandma faced the volunteers. "I will pay for the ingredients. I shouldn't have retaliated."
Vanessa looked momentarily disappointed. "And the lies you've been telling about me?"
"Those are not lies," I said.
Denise shifted awkwardly. "Can we please deal with the children's fundraiser?"
Ava, our seventeen-year-old next-door neighbor, stood at the back of the kitchen with her phone. She had come over to help pack cookie boxes. She caught my eye, then followed me into the hallway.
"I saw Vanessa push the tree," she whispered. "I was filming the lights through your window for my photography class."
She showed me the video. Vanessa glanced toward the living-room doorway, placed both hands against the trunk, and pushed hard. When the tree hit the floor, she looked toward Ava's camera before covering her mouth in pretend surprise.
"I've already backed it up," Ava said. "My mom told me not to delete anything."
I hugged her, almost knocking the phone out of her hand.
Before I could show Dad, my screen lit up with an unknown number.
DON'T USE THAT VIDEO, HANNAH. YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S HOME DEPENDS ON YOUR GOOD BEHAVIOR.
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Attached was a photograph of Grandma's bungalow, taken from across the street that morning.
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