Chapter 5 - The Hidden Camera
I stared at the unknown email address, my heart hammering fiercely against my ribs.
I clicked on the attached video file, praying it was the exact piece of evidence I desperately needed.
The video was recorded from a high angle, capturing a clear view of Grandma’s spacious kitchen.
I recognized the angle immediately; it was from the small security camera Grandma installed near the ceiling last year.
She had put it there to monitor the back door after a string of local neighborhood burglaries.
The footage showed Diane standing alone at the kitchen island, furiously typing on her smartphone.
She was scrolling through the photos she had taken of Hannah during the family reunion.
The camera clearly captured her using a digital editing application to aggressively darken the small scrape on Hannah’s arm.
She meticulously added purple and yellow hues to make it look like a massive, violent bruise.
The video even showed her typing out the anonymous email and sending it directly to the child welfare department.
“She really is a complete monster,” Grandma whispered, standing right behind my chair and watching the screen.
I finally had the undeniable proof to completely clear my name and expose Diane’s malicious plot.
But the joy of finding the video was instantly crushed by a terrifying new realization.
If Diane was willing to go this far to ruin me, she was probably the one who contacted Hannah’s biological father.
I needed to find out exactly how she knew about his unexpected parole release.
I downloaded the video file onto a secure USB drive and shoved it into my jacket pocket.
I told Grandma to lock all the doors and call me if Diane tried to return to the house.
I jumped into my car and sped toward the local police precinct, determined to show the evidence to a detective.
When I arrived at the station, the front desk officer told me that Hannah was not there.
“What do you mean she isn’t here? Two officers brought her in thirty minutes ago!” I demanded in a panic.
The officer checked the computer system and frowned in deep confusion.
“We have no record of any officers dispatched to your address today, ma'am,” he stated firmly.
I felt a sickening wave of absolute dread wash completely over me.
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The men in the police uniforms were not actual police officers at all.
Diane had hired dangerous mercenaries to kidnap Hannah right out of my own backyard.
