CHAPTER 4: The Assault Caught on Camera
The video kept playing.
I wanted to stop it.
I couldn't.
My eyes were locked on the screen.
Every second felt like another knife twisting into my chest.
The timestamp read:
8:07 a.m.
I had been gone from the house for exactly seven minutes.
Seven minutes.
That was all it took for my mother to become someone I no longer recognized.
Amy staggered backward after the slap.
One arm instinctively tightened around Frederick.
The other covered her burning cheek.
She didn't yell.
She didn't fight back.
She simply whispered,
"Please..."
"Don't do this in front of him."
My mother laughed.
"In front of him?"
She pointed at my son.
"He's a baby."
"He won't remember."
Then she stepped closer.
"But you will."
Amy tried to move around her.
"I need to feed Frederick."
Mother blocked the doorway.
"No."
"You'll feed him after you finish mopping the floors."
Amy stared at her in disbelief.
"He's hungry."
"So let him cry."
Every word made my stomach turn.
Frederick's cries grew louder.
He reached toward his mother.
Tiny hands.
Tiny fingers.
Too young to understand why no one was comforting him.
Amy began crying too.
"Please..."
"He's only eleven months old."
Mother folded her arms.
"And?"
"If you run every time he cries..."
"You'll raise a weak son."
Amy tried another approach.
"I'll mop afterward."
"I promise."
"No."
Mother smiled coldly.
"You'll obey first."
"Then maybe I'll let you be his mother."
I paused the video.
My breathing had become uneven.
The hospital room blurred.
I realized my fists were clenched so tightly my nails had cut into my palms.
Amy quietly reached over and loosened my fingers.
"Connor..."
"You don't have to keep watching tonight."
I looked at her.
"No."
"I have to see everything."
"Because you lived through it alone."
"I won't let you carry it alone anymore."
She closed her eyes.
For the first time since we'd met...
I saw relief instead of fear.
I pressed play again.
The next twenty minutes were unbearable.
Mother ordered Amy to scrub the kitchen floor.
On her hands and knees.
While Frederick cried inside his playpen.
Every time Amy looked toward him...
Mother shouted.
"The floor first!"
"The baby later!"
Finally...
Amy couldn't take it anymore.
She dropped the sponge and ran to Frederick.
Mother grabbed the cleaning bucket.
Then deliberately kicked it over.
Dirty water spread across the freshly cleaned floor.
"Oh no."
She laughed.
"You'll have to start again."
Amy looked completely defeated.
She picked up the sponge without saying another word.
The next recording came from the living room camera.
Three of my aunts had arrived for lunch.
Mother welcomed them inside.
"Sit down."
"Lunch is almost ready."
One aunt asked,
"Where's Amy?"
Mother smiled proudly.
"Training."
The women laughed.
One of them looked toward the hallway.
Amy walked past carrying Frederick with one arm...
And a laundry basket with the other.
She looked exhausted.
None of them offered to help.
Instead...
One aunt frowned.
"She still hasn't lost the baby weight."
Another nodded.
"Connor deserves a prettier wife."
The women laughed together.
Amy heard every word.
She kept walking.
Without responding.
I looked away from the screen.
"I should've seen it."
Amy shook her head.
"They never acted like that when you were home."
I frowned.
"They changed completely?"
She nodded.
"The moment your truck left the driveway..."
"They became different people."
Then another video began.
This one had audio from the garage camera.
Mother was talking on the phone.
She didn't know the security system recorded sound.
Her voice was calm.
Confident.
Almost proud.
"I've got Connor exactly where I want him."
She laughed.
"He still thinks Amy spends all day resting."
A man's voice answered from the phone.
"What if he finds out?"
Mother scoffed.
"He worships me."
"If Amy says anything..."
"I'll tell him she's depressed after childbirth."
"He'll believe me."
She laughed again.
"Men always believe their mothers."
I felt physically sick.
Everything had been planned.
Every lie.
Every manipulation.
Every accusation against Amy.
Mother hadn't been losing control.
She had been controlling everyone else.
Then...
The final video started.
The date was yesterday.
Amy stood in the pantry counting groceries.
Only a loaf of bread.
Some rice.
Milk.
Baby formula.
Nothing else.
Mother walked in carrying shopping bags.
Designer clothing.
Jewelry boxes.
Expensive perfume.
Amy stared at the bags.
"We're almost out of food."
Mother didn't even look at her.
"So?"
"We need groceries."
Mother laughed.
"I already spent this month's money."
Amy whispered,
"Connor gave you three thousand dollars."
"I know."
"I spent it."
"On what?"
Mother turned around slowly.
"My life."
She leaned closer.
"You should be grateful."
"Without me..."
"My son would've divorced you months ago."
Amy stood frozen.
Then Mother reached into one of the shopping bags and removed a velvet jewelry box.
Inside was a diamond necklace.
The price tag was still attached.
$4,860.
More than our monthly grocery budget.
More than Amy had spent on herself in two years.
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again...
There was no confusion left.
No denial.
No excuses.
Only truth.
A gentle knock interrupted us.
The pediatrician stepped into the room.
He smiled.
"Good news."
"Frederick's fever is finally coming down."
Amy immediately rushed to our son's bedside.
She kissed his forehead.
I watched them quietly.
Then I looked back at my phone.
There were still thirty-seven unopened files.
I thought I had already seen the worst.
I was wrong.
Because the next folder wasn't labeled Videos.
It was labeled:
BANK RECORDS
And hidden inside...
May you like
Was proof that someone had stolen more than my money.
They had stolen my late father's inheritance.
