Chapter 2 - THE MISSING FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES
The file lasted eleven minutes and twelve seconds.
Amanda watched only the first ninety seconds before she could no longer breathe.
Vivian had fastened a strap around Ethan’s waist. Richard had stood nearby with a glass of water, expressionless. Each time Ethan tried to stand, Vivian rang a silver bell and ordered him down.
“You are not a Vale,” she told him. “Your mother may have deceived my son, but blood cannot be negotiated.”
Amanda paused the video.
The hallway became painfully silent.
“What does she mean?” Amanda asked.
Richard’s face closed.
Vivian answered for him. “It means there are questions about Ethan’s paternity.”
Amanda almost laughed. The accusation was so absurd that for a moment it could not enter her mind.
“Questions from whom?”
“From the laboratory,” Vivian said.
Richard removed an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Amanda recognized the crest printed in blue at the top. Northbridge Genetic Services.
He held it out.
She did not take it.
“The report states there is no biological relationship between Ethan and me.”
Amanda stared at him. “You tested our son without telling me?”
“I needed the truth.”
“You had the truth.”
“The truth is in that report.”
“No.” Amanda looked down at Ethan. He was watching the adults with wide, wet eyes. She lowered her voice. “The truth is that you let your mother torture a four-year-old because of a piece of paper you did not have the courage to discuss with me.”
Richard flinched, but Vivian did not.
“He had every right,” she said. “The Vale inheritance cannot pass to an outsider.”
Amanda finally took the envelope. The report inside listed Richard Vale as the alleged father and Ethan Vale as the child. Probability of paternity: 0.00 percent.
The date of collection was six days earlier.
“How did you collect Ethan’s sample?”
Richard said nothing.
Amanda remembered waking one night to find Ethan’s bedroom door open. She had assumed he had gone to the bathroom. The next morning, a small patch of his hair near the nape looked uneven.
Her stomach turned.
“You cut his hair while he slept.”
“It was painless,” Vivian said.
Ethan touched the back of his head.
Amanda folded the report and slipped it into her coat. “We are leaving.”
Richard stepped in front of her.
“You are not taking him.”
“He is my son.”
“He may not be mine.”
“That does not make him yours to imprison.”
“It makes the situation legally complicated.”
Amanda saw it then. The report was not simply an explanation. It was a weapon. Richard had already spoken to attorneys. Vivian had already planned how to remove her.
“You were going to accuse me of adultery,” Amanda said.
Richard’s silence confirmed it.
“You were going to take the house, freeze my accounts, and use Ethan to humiliate me.”
Vivian’s tone remained cool. “Your imagination is theatrical.”
“Your cruelty is recorded.”
Richard glanced toward the phone. “Not all of it.”
Amanda looked down at the video timeline.
The clip began at 2:17 p.m. and ended at 2:28 p.m. The system log visible beneath it showed the camera had recorded continuously from 1:41 until 3:16, yet another section had been removed.
Forty-seven minutes.
Deleted manually.
“Who deleted the rest?” she asked.
Richard reached again for the phone. “Give it to me.”
Amanda backed toward the front door.
The door did not open.
She pressed the handle again.
Locked.
A red light glowed above the keypad.
Richard had engaged the internal security seal.
Ethan began trembling.
“Unlock it,” Amanda said.
“We need to speak privately.”
“You had hours to speak. Instead, you put my child on a leash.”
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful with your language.”
“No. You be careful with the evidence.”
Amanda dialed emergency services.
No signal.
The mansion’s cell jammer had been activated. Richard used it during confidential business meetings, but never without warning.
Richard stepped closer. “You are upset. Give me Ethan. Go upstairs. We will resolve this when you are calm.”
Amanda laughed once, without humor. “You still think calm means obedient.”
A soft beep sounded from her phone.
The downloaded clip had synchronized to an external account.
Richard saw the notification.
His expression fractured.
“Where did you send it?”
Amanda had not sent it anywhere.
The system had.
A destination appeared on the screen.
HART ARCHIVE.
Her maiden name.
Her dead father’s private server.
Amanda had not accessed it in six years.
Before she could touch the notification, the mansion lights went out.
In the darkness, Ethan screamed.
May you like
And someone whispered near Amanda’s ear.
“Do not let Richard see the rest.”
