Chapter 6 - The Missing Evidence
The handwritten note felt heavy in my trembling hands.
I stared at the anonymous scrawl, my mind racing.
"Who sent this?" Zoe asked, looking down the empty hallway.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"But Mark’s old laptop is still in the suitcase he packed for me."
I ran back to the guest bedroom and dug through the bottom of the first suitcase.
Sure enough, his old silver MacBook was shoved beneath a pile of heavy winter sweaters.
I pulled it out and flipped it open on Zoe's kitchen island.
The battery was surprisingly fully charged.
The screen illuminated, asking for a password.
"I know his old passcode," I said, typing in our wedding anniversary.
The laptop unlocked immediately.
The desktop was completely empty except for one single video file sitting dead center on the screen.
The file was named 'Thanksgiving_Dining_Room.mp4'.
"The smart home security cameras," Zoe gasped.
"He downloaded the footage of Megan slapping Lily."
I clicked on the video file, praying this was the undeniable proof I needed to show the judge on Monday.
The video player opened, showing a crystal-clear, high-definition angle of the mahogany dining table.
There was Frank, Carol, Megan, Mark, Lily, and myself.
I watched the argument unfold in perfect audio.
I saw myself stand up.
But then, the video glitched slightly.
To my absolute horror, the footage didn't show Megan slapping Lily.
It showed me reaching across the table, grabbing a heavy silver carving knife, and lunging violently at Megan’s throat.
It showed Lily screaming in terror as I threw Megan to the floor, screaming completely insane, incomprehensible words.
"What is this?" I screamed, backing away from the laptop.
"That never happened!"
Zoe leaned closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing sharply.
"It's a deepfake," Zoe said in a chilling voice.
"And it is a terrifyingly good one."
They had manipulated the footage using advanced AI software to make me look like a homicidal maniac in front of my own child.
"He is going to show this to the judge on Monday," I realized, the walls of the penthouse spinning around me.
"Between the poisoned blood test they are going to demand and this video, I will spend the rest of my life in a psychiatric prison."
And Lily would be handed over to the research facility to be cut open.
My cell phone rang, shattering the suffocating silence in the room.
It was an unknown number.
I answered it, putting it on speaker.
"Hello?" I said, my voice barely working.
"Did you watch the video, Chloe?" a deep, raspy voice asked.
I recognized the voice instantly.
It was Frank, my father-in-law.
"You framed me," I hissed into the phone.
"We protected our family," Frank replied coldly.
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"But I am a reasonable businessman. Meet me at the diner on 4th Street in twenty minutes. Come alone, or I send the video to the police right now."
Before I could answer, the line went dead.
