The screen lit up, black, then the camera feed filled it.
Wide angle. Living room. Timestamp in the corner: yesterday, 3:14 p.m.
Margaret’s hand went to her throat.
Lauren sat forward.
“What’s this?” Lauren said, and tried to laugh. “Are you filming us now?”
“No,” I said. “We’ve been filming for months. Since the watch went missing. Since the cash.”
I pressed play.
The room went silent except for the faint hum of the heater.
We all watched Emma play with her blocks.
We watched Margaret carry a mug to the kitchen.
We watched Lauren look down the hallway, wait, and walk toward the bedroom.
Margaret’s eyes flicked to Lauren.
Lauren’s fingers tightened on her knees.
We watched the three minutes pass.
We watched Lauren come back with the small dark velvet case pinched between her fingers, the gold clasp catching light.
We watched her kneel by her bag, lift the scarf, slide the case underneath.
We watched her sit back down, smooth her hair, pick up her phone.
I paused it on that frame, Lauren’s hand still half in the bag.
No one spoke.
The heater clicked.
Lauren stood up so fast her bag tipped.
“That is— that’s not what it looks like. I was— I was moving it for Mom. She asked me to put it somewhere safe. You cut the video—”
“You came out of her bedroom with it,” Daniel said. His voice was low, and it broke on the last word. “Mom’s bedroom. You put it in your bag. Under the scarf.”
Margaret stared at the screen, then at Lauren, then at the bag on the floor.
Her face had gone very pale.
“Lauren?” she said, quietly. “What is that case doing in your bag?”
Lauren’s mouth opened, closed.
Her eyes darted to the door.
“Check it,” I said. “Right now. In front of us.”
Lauren didn’t move.
