Chapter 4 - THE VIDEO THAT STOLE TWO YEARS OF OUR LIVES
“I never said that.”
Lily looked startled by the force of my answer.
I immediately softened my voice.
“Sweetheart, I'm not upset with you.”
“But I saw you.”
I knelt beside her chair.
“Where?”
“On Grandma's tablet.”
My mother sat down slowly.
Lily continued coloring.
“You were at your desk. You said Mommy made everything hard and you wanted to be free.”
I remembered sitting at my desk during the worst months of my separation.
I remembered exhaustion.
Anger.
Arguments that seemed to have no beginning or end.
But I didn't remember saying I wanted to abandon my daughter.
“Do you remember anything else?” I asked.
Lily thought for a moment.
“You were wearing the blue shirt with the little horse.”
I knew exactly which shirt she meant.
It was one I frequently wore while working from home.
That made the story more frightening.
“Mother,” I said, “show me the video.”
Diane shook her head.
“I deleted it.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“Why did you have a video of me?”
She rubbed her forehead.
“Because Caroline recorded an argument.”
That explanation almost made sense.
Caroline had recorded several of our conversations during our separation.
She had told me she wanted accurate records because our memories of arguments were so different.
I had resented it.
Now I wished I had listened.
“Which argument?”
Diane hesitated.
“The one about selling the house.”
I remembered.
Caroline wanted to move into a smaller place and step away from my family's influence.
I had refused.
I was convinced she was trying to isolate me from my mother.
There had been a terrible argument.
I had said things I regretted.
But Lily hadn't been present.
At least, I didn't think she had.
Vanessa quietly said, “The recording was edited.”
Everyone looked at her.
Diane's face changed.
“Vanessa, stop.”
“No.” Vanessa's voice cracked. “I can't keep doing this.”
She turned to me.
“Your mother showed Caroline a shortened recording. It made it sound as though you wanted her and Lily gone.”
I stood perfectly still.
“What did the complete recording say?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“You said you wanted freedom from the fighting. You said you couldn't live with constant suspicion anymore.”
I remembered those words.
I had said them after Caroline accused my mother of interfering with our finances.
Then I had said something else.
Something Vanessa didn't mention.
“I also said I would never abandon Lily.”
Vanessa nodded.
“That part was removed.”
I turned to Diane.
“Why?”
My mother stared at me with eyes I had known all my life.
“Because Caroline was taking you away from everything your father built.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“My father?”
Diane's husband, Richard Whitaker, had died five years earlier.
He had founded Whitaker Commercial Properties, a successful Chicago real estate company.
After his death, I inherited controlling ownership.
Diane retained an advisory role and managed a family charitable fund.
Caroline had never liked the arrangement.
She believed my mother exercised too much control over decisions that should have belonged to me.
“She wanted you to leave the company,” Diane continued.
“No. She wanted me to stop letting you run my life.”
“She wanted you to sell your inheritance.”
“She wanted us to move into our own home.”
Diane shook her head.
“You don't know what she was planning.”
“Then tell me.”
My mother looked at Vanessa.
For the first time, I noticed that Vanessa seemed just as frightened of Diane as Lily did.
Rose interrupted.
“Mr. Whitaker, I need to tell you something important.”
She pulled a child's drawing from her folder.
It showed a house, a tree, and three people holding hands.
Across the top, Lily had written:
ME MOMMY AND DADDY.
There was a fourth figure standing far away.
A woman wearing a bright red coat.
“Lily made this during an art session,” Rose explained.
I looked at my daughter.
“Who's the lady in red?”
Lily answered without looking up.
“The lady who yelled at Mommy.”
Vanessa made a small sound.
I looked at her.
“Was that you?”
She shook her head.
“I've never owned a red coat.”
Lily frowned.
“Yes, you did.”
“I promise you, Lily, I didn't.”
Lily studied her.
Then she pointed at Diane.
“Grandma has one too.”
My mother rose.
“This is ridiculous.”
Rose said, “Please sit down.”
Something in her tone made Diane obey.
Rose opened another section of the folder.
“Caroline wasn't admitted to Willow Creek under her own name.”
I felt sick.
“What name?”
“Caroline Bennett.”
Her maiden name.
“Why?”
“The referral described her as suffering from severe emotional instability following a marital breakdown.”
“Who referred her?”
Rose paused.
“A physician associated with your family's foundation.”
I recognized the name on the page.
Dr. Harold Kessler.
He had treated my mother for years.
He had also signed medical clearance forms for foundation-sponsored programs.
“Did he examine Caroline?”
“According to the records, yes.”
“According to Caroline?”
Rose looked at Lily.
“I don't know what Caroline was told before she arrived.”
The implication was terrible.
My wife might have been led to believe she was receiving temporary counseling when she was actually entering a residential program.
I remembered how Diane had described Caroline during those final months.
Unstable.
Paranoid.
Unreasonable.
I had been so exhausted by our arguments that I hadn't challenged those descriptions enough.
Daniel appeared at the open conference-room door.
“Graham, the guests have left.”
“Thank you.”
He glanced at the papers.
“Everything okay?”
“No.”
He didn't ask another question.
Instead, he looked at Lily.
“Hey, kiddo. I remember you.”
She smiled faintly.
“You gave me a toy dinosaur.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“I did.”
Then he looked at me.
“There's something else.”
He held out his phone.
“I asked hotel security to preserve the lobby footage. The woman who brought Lily wasn't alone when she arrived.”
Rose looked surprised.
“I came with her myself.”
“I know. But someone followed you inside.”
Daniel showed me a still image.
A woman in a gray coat stood near the hotel's revolving doors.
Her face was partly hidden by a scarf.
But I recognized the way she stood.
One hand held a canvas shopping bag.
The other rested protectively against her chest.
My breath caught.
Caroline used to stand that way when she was anxious.
“Where did she go?” I asked.
“Security lost her near the service elevators.”
I moved toward the door.
Then Lily grabbed my hand.
“Daddy, don't leave me.”
I stopped.
I looked at Daniel.
“Find her. Quietly. Don't frighten her.”
He nodded and left.
Diane was staring at the photograph.
For one moment, genuine grief crossed her face.
Then she whispered, “She shouldn't have come here.”
I turned toward her.
“Why not?”
Diane looked at the silver bracelet.
“Because if Caroline tells you what happened at the lake, you'll never forgive me.”
Before I could answer, Rose reached into the blue folder again.
She pulled out a photograph taken on October 14.
It showed Caroline standing beside her car near the lake.
May you like
Beside her stood my mother.
And in Diane's hand was Lily's little pink winter coat.
