Chapter 12 - THE CAMERA INSIDE THE MUSIC BOX
Police searched Lily’s old bedroom again.
Inside a wooden music box shaped like a carousel, they found a memory card.
Lily had hidden it.
Claire gave her the box before she died.
Vanessa believed it contained only jewelry.
Lily had used an old tablet camera to record conversations.
The first video showed Vanessa standing beside the hidden room.
“Your father is tired of your sadness.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“He wants a wife who gives him peace.”
“I’m his daughter.”
“You are the reason peace is impossible.”
A second video showed Adrian questioning Lily.
“Does your father shout?”
“At work.”
“Does he drink?”
“Sometimes wine.”
“Does he scare you?”
“No.”
Adrian leaned closer.
“You need to think carefully.”
“If Lucas remains your guardian, your mother’s company may fail.”
“You can save everyone by choosing Vanessa.”
Lily began crying.
“I don’t want to choose.”
Adrian answered:
“Children with wealth do not get to avoid responsibility.”
The final recording happened one night before the wedding.
Vanessa held Claire’s letter.
She had found the envelope beneath Lily’s mattress but not the original pages.
Lily had given them to Margaret.
“Where is the real letter?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you tell your father, he will think you are sick.”
“No.”
“He already agreed to send you away.”
“You’re lying.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Then ask him after the wedding.”
The video ended when Vanessa took the device.
She did not know it had uploaded a copy to the music box card.
Lucas watched the footage once.
Then he left the evidence room and sat alone in the courthouse stairwell.
Margaret found him there.
“I keep wanting to say I failed her.”
“You did.”
He looked up.
Margaret continued.
“But your guilt cannot become another room Lily has to care for.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Use it to change what you control.”
“Do not ask your daughter to make you feel forgiven.”
Lucas nodded slowly.
He had spent his life solving problems through action.
Money.
Contracts.
Decisions.
May you like
This problem required something harder.
Remaining present without demanding a quick repair.
