Chapter 3 - THE MAN MY DAUGHTERS CALLED UNCLE
For several seconds, I genuinely believed there had to be a mistake.
Damian Vance was my younger half-brother.
He had stood beside me at Elena’s funeral.
He had carried Valeria when she cried herself to sleep afterward.
Sofia called him Uncle D.
When our father died, I gave Damian his gold watch—the one possession our father had valued more than his cars, money or houses.
Damian had been at my side for almost twenty years.
I looked at Hector.
“Codes can be copied.”
“Yes.”
“So prove it was him.”
Hector nodded.
That was why he worked for me.
No argument.
No offended loyalty.
Just proof.
We returned to the monitoring room.
Hector pulled five years of archived security logs.
Most of the old footage had been automatically overwritten, but entry records remained.
Damian’s code had entered the estate eleven times while I was away.
Seven visits were explainable.
Family dinners.
Business.
Seeing the girls.
Four were not.
All four occurred within the previous six months.
After Chloe had moved into the estate.
Hector opened the first surviving video.
2:13 a.m.
Damian entered through the rear garage.
No driver.
No guards.
Chloe met him.
My brother handed her a thick envelope.
The video had no useful audio from that angle.
Chloe shook her head.
Damian grabbed her elbow.
She pulled away.
Then she took the envelope.
My chest tightened.
“They’re having an affair?”
Hector shook his head.
“Watch her face.”
He enlarged the frame.
Chloe wasn’t smiling.
She looked frightened.
That should have made me feel better.
It didn’t.
The second recording was worse.
Damian came through the service corridor while Chloe stood lookout.
Then one of the hallway cameras went black for fourteen minutes.
Fourteen minutes later, he left.
“What room is beyond that corridor?” I asked.
Hector answered immediately.
“Valeria’s bedroom.”
Marisol covered her mouth.
I turned toward her.
“You said somebody searched her room after Elena died.”
“Yes.”
“Damian?”
“I never saw anyone.”
“You suspected him?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I stared at her.
“Marisol.”
She looked down.
“I suspected everyone.”
Including me.
I understood without her saying it.
Oddly, that hurt less now.
A movement on one monitor caught my eye.
Valeria had returned downstairs.
She was carrying Sofia’s rabbit.
Chloe must have put it back within reach after we stopped watching.
Valeria looked around, then tugged at the seam beneath one floppy ear.
Marisol inhaled.
“What is she doing?”
The little girl slid two fingers beneath the worn fabric.
Then Sofia came running into the room.
“Don’t!”
Valeria shushed her.
“It’s okay.”
“That’s Mama Bunny.”
“I know.”
Sofia hugged the rabbit to her chest.
Valeria leaned toward her sister.
“Mama said the moon stays with Bunny.”
Every person in that monitoring room went silent.
I turned to Marisol.
“What does that mean?”
She shook her head.
“I have no idea.”
I left the room before Hector could stop me.
This time I wasn’t hunting betrayal.
I was going to my daughters.
They were in Sofia’s bedroom.
Both jumped when I entered.
That reaction cut me again.
Then Sofia realized it was me.
“Daddy!”
She ran into my arms.
I lifted her.
“You came back!”
“Yeah, bug.”
“You said four days.”
“I know.”
“Did Canada say no?”
Despite everything, I nearly laughed.
“Something like that.”
Valeria remained beside the bed.
She looked wary.
Too wary for nine.
I set Sofia down.
“Val.”
Her eyes met mine.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
“For what?”
She looked at the rabbit.
That answered my question.
I sat on the carpet.
“Come here.”
After a moment, she did.
I held out my hand.
“Tell me about the moon.”
Valeria’s eyes widened.
Sofia immediately said, “You’re not supposed to know.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s secret.”
“Who told you?”
Sofia shrugged.
“Val.”
I looked at my older daughter.
Valeria swallowed.
“When I was little, Mama showed me her bracelet.”
“I remember.”
“She had a moon thing.”
“A charm.”
“Yeah.”
She sat beside me.
“She told me if she was ever late coming home, the moon should stay with the bunny.”
Marisol had entered quietly behind us.
Her eyes filled with tears.
I asked, “Do you remember her putting it there?”
Valeria shook her head.
“I remember her saying it.”
Five years was a lifetime to a nine-year-old.
“And the bracelet?”
Valeria frowned.
“I had it after Mama went to heaven.”
Marisol nodded.
“For several weeks.”
“Then what happened?”
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember.”
Sofia tugged my sleeve.
“Uncle D wanted Bunny.”
My head snapped toward her.
“When?”
“Last time you went away.”
Valeria quickly looked at her sister.
Sofia realized she had said too much.
“What happened?” I asked.
Valeria’s voice became very quiet.
“Uncle Damian came when Chloe thought we were asleep.”
My entire body went cold.
“What did he do?”
“He asked where Mama’s silver bracelet was.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Valeria looked almost offended.
“Because it was Mama’s.”
I pulled her toward me.
She resisted for one second.
Then melted into my chest.
That one second told me how badly I had damaged her trust by being absent.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She didn’t answer.
Sofia crawled against my other side.
For several minutes, I simply held them.
Later, after their tutor arrived under Hector’s guard, we returned to the monitors.
Hector had located the footage from Damian’s last unexplained visit.
He played it slowly.
1:41 a.m.
Damian entered the living room.
He went directly to the shelf where Sofia’s rabbit usually sat.
He took it.
My nails dug into my palms.
Then he walked toward the service hallway.
The main camera went black.
But Hector had installed a secondary camera months later after a plumbing theft.
Damian apparently didn’t know about it.
The angle barely caught him in the reflection of a framed painting.
He was standing beneath the stairwell.
Holding Sofia’s rabbit.
He opened the seam beneath its ear.
Reached inside.
And removed something.
Something small.
Silver.
Marisol whispered, “The moon.”
Damian held it beneath the light.
His expression changed.
Then he shoved the rabbit beneath his coat and walked toward the garage.
Hector froze the final frame.
On Damian’s wrist was our father’s gold watch.
The same watch Valeria had drawn dozens of times because she thought its black face looked like an eye.
Hector zoomed farther.
Damian was holding the silver moon charm between his fingers.
Except the charm wasn’t solid.
It was open.
May you like
And inside it was something no bigger than my thumbnail.
A memory card.
