Chapter 4 - The Nanny Cam
I sprinted up the driveway and rushed into the empty, silent house.
The living room was completely trashed, with drawers ripped open and baby supplies hastily thrown around.
Grandma walked in behind me, her face pale as she surveyed the chaotic scene.
"They took everything important and ran," she whispered, picking up a discarded baby sock from the floor.
"Dad knew the bribe wouldn't keep us quiet forever," I replied, feeling a terrible sense of dread.
We needed a clue to figure out where they were taking my brother before they left the state.
I ran into Dad's home office, hoping he had left a travel itinerary or a laptop behind.
The desk was completely cleared off, but a small, flashing red light in the corner of the ceiling caught my eye.
"Grandma, look," I pointed up at the smoke detector, noticing a tiny camera lens hidden inside the plastic casing.
"Your father installed a hidden security system last year," Grandma realized, her eyes widening.
"The footage doesn't go to his phone, it records directly to a hidden server in the basement."
We rushed down the wooden basement stairs, flipping on the single, dim bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Behind the water heater, hidden by a stack of old cardboard boxes, was a black computer server humming quietly.
I hooked up an old dusty monitor and grabbed a computer mouse, frantically clicking through the files.
I found the video file from two hours ago and hit play.
The grainy night-vision footage showed Dad and Elaine frantically packing suitcases in the living room.
Elaine was holding the baby, who was crying softly in his blanket.
"We have to leave before the buyer changes his mind," Elaine said on the video, her voice full of panic.
"The private jet is waiting at the regional airstrip, and they have the five million dollars in cash," Dad replied smoothly.
I felt violently sick to my stomach as the horrific truth finally washed over me.
My father wasn't just trying to cover up an accident in the dining room.
He and Elaine were actively trying to traffic my newborn brother to an illegal offshore buyer.
"We have to call the FBI right now," Grandma said, pulling out her cell phone.
Before she could dial a single number, the basement lights suddenly cut out, plunging us into total darkness.
The heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs slammed shut, and the deadbolt locked with a loud, terrifying click.
"Did you really think I wouldn't get a notification when someone accessed my server?" Dad's voice echoed through the air vents.
I rushed up the stairs and pounded desperately on the locked door.
"You are going to burn in hell for this!" I screamed, kicking the solid wood with all my strength.
"Maybe," Dad laughed coldly through the vent.
"But you two are going to burn in this basement first."
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I smelled the sharp, unmistakable scent of gasoline pouring down from the cracks under the door.
And then, the bright, terrifying glow of a lit match flickered in the gap above us.
