Chapter 2 - The Sister's Betrayal and the Digital VaultOfficer Miller
I stood in the entryway with my daughter still clutching her stuffed rabbit, breathing in the cold air that rushed through the open front door. My phone buzzed aggressively in my palm.
I looked down. Another text message from Lauren. Then another.
Where are the police? Mom just called me crying hysterically saying you ruined everything! Grace, answer your phone right now! Everyone is arriving for the party in twenty minutes, and the house is a disaster!
I didn't hesitate. I unlocked the screen, tapped on Lauren’s contact, and hit the video call button.
The phone rang twice before Lauren's face popped up on the screen. She was standing in the parking lot of the estate, dressed in an expensive designer party-planning outfit, her hair freshly blown out, looking like she was ready to step onto a red carpet. But the second she saw my face—and the police cruisers flashing behind me in the background—her smug expression dissolved into pure confusion.
—Grace? What is going on? Why are there cops at Mom and Dad's house? Lauren snapped, crossing her arms. And where is your daughter? The guests are literally pulling up the driveway right now!
—Look behind me, Lauren, I said calmly, turning the camera around so she could see the crime scene tape an officer was beginning to stretch across the front porch.
Lauren gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. —Are you insane? You called the police on Mom and Dad over a haircut? Do you have any idea how this looks? The entire family is going to be here in ten minutes! You are ruining Maya’s seventh birthday party just because you love playing the victim!
—A haircut, Lauren? I turned the camera back to my face, letting her see the cold fury burning in my eyes. You call pinning a child down until her wrists are bruised and hacking her hair off down to the scalp until she bleeds 'a haircut'?
Lauren blinked, her face flushing crimson, though whether from guilt or embarrassment was impossible to tell. —It... it wasn't supposed to go that far. Mom just said... she said your daughter's hair was a distraction in the group photos. She said it looked unkempt next to Maya's professional styling. We agreed that a quick trim would fix it before the family arrived... we didn't know she would move around so much and get nicked!
—'We agreed'? I repeated, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. You knew about this? You signed off on mutilating a six-year-old child just so your precious daughter could be the center of attention at a birthday party?
—I didn't sign off on anything! Lauren shrieked defensively, her voice pitching up in panic. I just said Mom needed to handle her appearance so it didn't clash with the theme! It’s Maya's day! Why do you always have to make everything about you and your kid?
—Don't worry, Lauren, I said, a grim, humorless smile touching my lips. You won't have to worry about my kid ruining your aesthetic anymore. And you won't have to worry about Mom and Dad either. The police are currently reviewing a memory card from the hallway camera that recorded the entire thing. I suggest you turn your car around and explain to the arriving guests why the party is canceled, because your parents are heading down to the precinct in handcuffs, and you might want to talk to a defense attorney yourself.
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The video call went dead with a sharp click as Lauren dropped or hung up the phone. I didn't care. I turned off my screen, knelt down beside my daughter, and gently brushed her uninjured shoulder.
—You’re safe now, sweetheart, I whispered, kissing the top of her head. We’re going home.
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