Chapter 4 - The Backup Feed
The security office was hidden behind the library.
Julian entered first, followed by Mara, Celeste, Brent, Rachel, and one attorney who had been attending the dinner as a guest.
Sophie was finally taken upstairs.
Brent sat at the console.
“The local server won’t have the missing feed.”
Julian leaned against the desk. “I know.”
Brent looked up.
Julian reached past him and opened a separate encrypted dashboard.
“I had a remote mirror installed after the warehouse sabotage last year.”
Celeste folded her arms.
“You never told me that.”
“It wasn’t romantic dinner conversation.”
Mara almost smiled.
Almost.
Julian selected the west hallway.
Video loaded.
8:14 p.m.
Mara appeared on-screen carrying folded napkins.
8:16.
A catering assistant crossed the hall.
8:18.
Celeste entered frame.
No one spoke.
She was alone.
She looked over both shoulders, opened the staff closet, and disappeared inside.
Celeste’s breathing changed.
“That could be anything.”
Julian fast-forwarded twenty seconds.
Celeste stepped out.
Her right hand was empty.
Her left hand was closed.
Mara’s cardigan hung inside that closet.
Brent stood abruptly. “The angle doesn’t show what she did.”
Julian looked at him. “Sit down.”
Brent sat.
The feed continued.
At 8:23, Mara appeared from the opposite end of the hall. The scarf was tied over her face.
As she bent to pick up a dropped spoon, the knot slipped.
A thin silver chain fell from beneath her uniform.
An oval locket swung into view.
Julian stopped the video.
Mara touched the locket at her throat by instinct.
He stared at the frozen frame.
“Zoom in.”
Brent didn’t move.
Julian did it himself.
The image sharpened.
The locket was plain silver, scratched along one edge, with a tiny crescent-shaped dent near the hinge.
Julian stopped breathing.
Rachel noticed first.
“Julian?”
He stepped closer to the monitor.
Mara felt a sudden coldness that had nothing to do with the room.
Julian turned to her.
“Where did you get that?”
“My mother gave it to me.”
“How long have you had it?”
“Since I was sixteen.”
He looked almost angry now, but not at her.
“Were you in Westchester on October seventeenth, twelve years ago?”
Mara’s fingers closed around the locket.
The date opened a door she had kept locked for more than a decade.
Rain.
Broken glass.
A black car upside down beyond a guardrail.
A young man bleeding in the mud.
Celeste whispered, “Julian, don’t.”
May you like
He turned toward her.
And Mara finally understood why Celeste had wanted her face hidden.
