Chapter 3 - Scratch Marks
Daniel could hear his own pulse.
The closet smelled stale, like fabric and trapped air.
On the floor sat a yellow toy truck he had bought Noah three months earlier and then spent an entire weekend searching for.
“Noah?” Daniel asked.
The boy would not look at him.
Rosa carried him closer, but his arms locked around her neck.
Daniel crouched beside the little chair.
“Buddy, did you sit in here?”
Noah nodded.
Vanessa snapped, “He sat in there once because he wouldn’t calm down.”
Daniel stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“You locked a three-year-old in a closet?”
“It was not like that.”
“What was it like?”
“He was screaming. He was throwing food. He kept kicking me.”
Noah whispered, “I wanted Daddy.”
That hit Daniel harder than any accusation could have.
He had been in Boston that week closing a deal. Vanessa had told him Noah caught a stomach bug and slept early every night.
“How many times?” Daniel asked.
Vanessa crossed her arms. “I’m not going to stand here and be interrogated in front of staff.”
Rosa stepped forward. “Then answer him as Noah’s mother.”
Vanessa’s eyes flashed. “You do not get to use that word with me.”
Rosa recoiled.
Daniel noticed.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Vanessa said.
Rosa looked at Noah.
Daniel saw something pass across her face. Fear. Guilt. A decision.
“Rosa,” he said.
She met his eyes.
“I need to show you something.”
Vanessa moved instantly. “No.”
Rosa stepped back.
Daniel placed himself between them.
“What?”
Rosa shifted Noah to one hip and pulled her phone from her apron pocket.
“I started recording because I thought no one would believe me.”
Vanessa lunged for the phone.
Daniel caught her wrist.
“Don’t.”
For the first time, Vanessa looked afraid of him.
Rosa unlocked the screen.
“There are twelve videos.”
Daniel stared at the phone.
“Twelve?”
May you like
Rosa nodded.
“And the worst one isn’t from this house.”
