Chapter 16 - The Voice on the Recording

The audio was twenty-three seconds long. It began with me saying, "I'm taking her," and ended with, "You will never see Lucy again."

My voice sounded clear. Terrifyingly clear.

"I never said those sentences together," I told Lila. "The first part is from Sunday when I picked Lucy up. The last part is from a call when I told Celia she couldn't see Lucy until things were safe."

Lila had already requested the underlying recording and any information showing how it had been created. She cautioned me that proving an edit could take more than listening closely.

That night I replayed the complete video from Tessa's phone and found the first sentence at the six-second mark. I had said, "I'm taking her inside. She needs help." The second was in a voicemail Dana had saved after Celia called her repeatedly. My words had been, "You will never see Lucy alone again while you keep hurting her."

Someone had cut away every word that gave the sentences meaning.

I brought both recordings to Lila the next morning.

"Good," she said. "We can document the context, and we can have a qualified person compare the files if necessary."

Celia's new filing did not produce the immediate order she'd requested. Her account was contested, and the court set a hearing rather than accepting it as fact. The delay was reasonable. Living inside it was awful.

I started checking the locks twice each night. Dana suggested a counselor for me, too. I resisted at first because I didn't have time to be a person who needed help.

"You're allowed to be tired," she said. "You're not allowed to pretend you're made of steel."

I finally booked an appointment.

The following morning, Ben came to Lila's office carrying his laptop. He opened a shared family account that Celia had once asked him to manage.

In a folder labeled SUNDAY MEDIA were three files: the original clip, a shortened version, and a final version with my voice rearranged. Each had a different creation date.

Ben looked at me, devastated.

"She asked me how to send big video files," he said. "I helped her upload them. I didn't know what she was making."

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Under the folder sat a receipt from a media editor. In the notes field was one instruction.

MAKE THE MOTHER SOUND DANGEROUS.