Chapter 6 - Cold Hard Footage
"You have no proof of such absurd accusations, Jack," Evelyn sneered, crossing her arms, her composure chillingly defiant. "You have only the word of a hysterical, bleeding girl who comes from the gutter. Let's see how that holds up in Judge Abernathy’s courtroom."
Officer Miller shifted uncomfortably, his hand resting on his utility belt. "Sir, we have conflicting statements here. Both parties show signs of a struggle. We might have to take both women in for questioning—"
"No, you won't," Clara’s weak, cracked voice cut through the room.
She was sitting up now, leaning against the paramedic's arm, her face pale, the white bandage taped over her brow already seeping with pinkish fluid. With a trembling hand, she pointed across the room toward a stuffed brown teddy bear sitting on the top shelf above the changing table.
"Look at the eyes," Clara whispered.
Jack looked. He walked over to the shelf, reached up, and pulled the teddy bear down. Set within the right plastic eye of the bear was a pinhole camera lens, gleaming faintly under the nursery lights.
Evelyn’s face drained of every ounce of color. The icy arrogance vanished, replaced by sheer, naked terror.
"Clara..." Jack breathed, looking down at his wife.
"I wasn't crazy, Jack," Clara said, fresh tears tracing through the dried blood on her cheeks. "She came here three days ago while you were working. She whispered terrible things in my ear while I was nursing Leo. She told me she was going to make sure I disappeared. She told me she would take my baby and throw me into an asylum. Nobody believed me when I said she was dangerous... so I bought a hidden nanny cam on Amazon. It connects directly to the cloud."
Jack pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the surveillance app Clara had installed, and hit playback.
The video loaded in high-definition 1080p with crisp audio.
The screen showed the nursery at 1:47 AM. The door opening silently. Evelyn Vance entering with gloves, pulling a vial and a test tube from her handbag. Then Clara stirring from the rocking chair, gasping in horror. The audio captured Evelyn’s venomous growl: *"You think you're going to take my money, you peasant? You think this bastard gets Harrison's fortune?"*
Then came the violence: Evelyn lunging, grabbing Clara by the hair, dragging her toward the crib, Clara screaming in agony, the sickening sound of Clara’s head striking the solid oak slats. And finally, the door swinging wide, Jack charging in like an enraged freight train, tossing Evelyn across the room.
Officer Miller watched the screen over Jack's shoulder. His jaw hardened. He turned toward Evelyn Vance, unhooking the heavy steel handcuffs from his belt with a decisive click.
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"Evelyn Vance," Miller said, his voice stripped of all deference. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back. You are under arrest for felony aggravated assault, burglary, and attempted child endangerment."
***
