Chapter 3
Chapter Three
DELETED
I wait until everyone is asleep.
Noah is down—same routine, requiring a good hour.
Gavin is now snoring beside me. He stayed awake the entire time it took me to get Noah to fall asleep. He watched some crime show and then had the nerve to tell me what happened.
I slip out of bed with my phone.
I ask myself, Why? Claire, why are you doing this?
I don’t know, maybe I need to torture myself.
Or maybe I need proof that I didn’t imagine any of it.
I sit at the kitchen table. Same table, same seat.
The house is dark, quiet, resting.
Everything smells clean and calm.
From the outside, the most picturesque view you can find.
Inside the house…
I open the nanny cam app.
I tap History.
I look at today’s data.
Nothing.
I blink.
I refresh the page.
Nothing.
I double-check the date, just in case my sleepy brain has things confused.
Nope. I have the correct date.
Today.
I know exactly what time it happened.
11:42am.
There should be a clip.
There isn’t.
At first, I immediately blame technology.
Maybe cloud storage exposure. Maybe motion clips overwrite each other.
Maybe…
I refresh the page again.
Then I log out, completely.
I log back in, my heart sinking thinking it’s going to send a text to Gavin’s phone for verification.
It doesn’t.
I’m back in the nanny cam app and there is still nothing showing.
At least not what I’m looking for.
Then I notice something.
Not just one clip is missing.
There’s a gap.
11:17am.
Then 12:08pm.
Almost an entire hour gone.
Not corrupted.
Removed.
Like someone wanted to make sure they covered their entire trail.
Like there was much more to be seen besides the flirty laughing, touching, and kissing.
I stop breathing.
Nobody accidentally deletes an entire block of footage.
Someone knew exactly what they were looking for.
Somebody knew exactly when to look.
This afternoon replays again in my mind.
Me picking up the camera. Paige looking at Gavin. Gavin answering my questions too quickly. His phone in his hand.
I wasn’t imagining any of it.
Not then and not now.
They panicked earlier.
And then they cleaned it all up.
My stomach drops, but it quickly comes back.
“The email,” I whisper quietly.
I stand too fast. The chair scratches the floor. I freeze and look up, wondering if the sound could have somehow traveled across the house, up the stairs, into Noah’s room, and overpowered the white noise machine we have.
Right now, I need my family asleep.
My family.
I reach for the chair and slide it back toward me and slowly sit down, needing this house to be quiet in response to my fast movements.
I open the email account I made earlier.
When I was in the storage closet.
When I was in shock.
The attachment is still there.
I download it again.
I watch three seconds.
I close it.
I don’t need to see any more.
“Thank you,” I whisper to nobody.
Maybe I’m talking to the universe. Maybe I’m talking to the earlier version of myself, who someone knew to save the footage and email it, as though I subconsciously knew my cheating husband would delete that part of the feed.
For the first time today, I almost cry.
Not so much because of Gavin.
Because I almost lost the proof.
I take a deep breath and move back into operations mode.
Having a backup is key, anyone knows that.
Having a second backup is smart.
I don’t want to store the second copy anywhere in or near this house.
Just in case Gavin were to take my phone and do something.
Nikki.
I take another deep breath.
My best friend, Nikki.
She’s halfway across the country for work. She never liked Gavin from the day she met him. She stood by my side as my maid of honor, only to protect me. Her words. The night before the wedding she offered to sneak me away.
She saw something I never did.
Sending you something. Save it. Don’t respond. Coming from an email account I created.
I send the file.
I know Nikki and I know she’s awake.
Not just because of the time difference.
It’s not even a minute later and my phone buzzes.
Too late. I already watched.
I close my eyes.
I can’t be all that surprised.
What person would get a video file from their best friend and not watch it? Even if they were told not to watch it.
Give me his office address.
I smile despite myself.
Another text comes through.
You know what? Forget that. Just give me the office name. The week I’m having, I’ll cut every guy’s dick off. And then ask questions later.
Now I laugh.
First time I’ve done that since opening the app just about twelve hours ago.
Nikki. Please don’t do that.
She replies.
I’m serious. And you know it.
I nod.
I know you are. That’s why I’m telling you not to come.
Three dots.
They vanish.
Then return.
Okay. Fine. But if you change your mind, I’ll bring duct tape.
My thumbs hover for a few seconds, wondering what to say next.
I can’t get into details and I can’t get too deep.
Not right now. Not yet.
I’ll tell you more later.
Nikki responds with a simple K and that’s the end of us texting.
I feel like I’m not so alone.
But that part doesn’t matter.
What matters is the next move.
Gavin deleted the footage.
I bet Paige is sleeping with relief, thinking the truth has been erased.
In reality, the truth is waiting.
And I’m the one in control now to decide when it’s the perfect time to expose it.