Chapter 8 - The Second Camera

The production company occupied a second-floor office above a Pilates studio. Its owner, Nia Brooks, had spent twenty years filming weddings, conferences, and people who wanted every second of their importance documented.

"We don't release client material without permission," she told Naomi and Maya.

"A woman tried to kick my client in the head," Maya replied. "The hotel says its cameras failed."

Nia looked at the six-second viral clip on Maya's phone. She watched it twice, then opened her office door to make sure no one was listening.

"One of my cameras was facing the dais," she admitted. "I was told to erase everything from the last twenty minutes."

"Did you?"

"I wiped the editing folder. The raw camera card is still locked in a cabinet because my editor is out sick."

Naomi nearly stood up. Maya put a hand on her arm.

"We can send a preservation letter today," Maya said. "I can also seek a subpoena. You don't have to take risks you don't choose."

Nia exhaled. "Send it. I don't like bullies, and I don't like destroying work."

In the elevator, Naomi allowed herself a grin for the first time all week.

It vanished when her phone rang. Isabel sounded breathless. Their apartment superintendent had come by with two men. He said the family had to leave immediately because the building's wiring was dangerous.

"Did he give you anything in writing?" Naomi asked.

"He said he'd cut the power. Naomi, I'm scared."

"Go to Mr. Bello's. I'm coming."

Maya called the city tenants' hotline while Naomi hurried through traffic. By the time they reached the building, the lights in the hallway were out. A handwritten notice claimed emergency electrical work. No permit number. No contractor details.

Mr. Bello opened his door holding a flashlight. Isabel sat at his kitchen table trying to breathe slowly through her inhaler.

"We have to take her to urgent care," Naomi said.

"I'll drive," Maya answered.

As they carried Isabel downstairs, the superintendent watched from the dark landing. "You should have accepted the relocation offer," he said.

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Naomi stopped. "Who told you to say that?"

He looked away. A folded piece of paper stuck out of his shirt pocket, stamped with the Sterling property logo.