Chapter 2 - The Woman on the Baby Monitor
Natalie snatched the baby monitor off the counter and held it behind her back.
“Who is that?” she demanded.
Liam stopped moving.
Nobody answered.
The monitor hissed.
Then the woman’s voice came again.
“My name is Brooke.”
The room changed.
Liam closed his eyes.
I stared at him.
Brooke.
The woman from the call.
The woman Liam had promised to marry.
Diane whispered, “Oh my God.”
I took the monitor from Natalie.
“Brooke?”
“Yes.”
Her voice shook.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to reach you.”
“How are you on my baby monitor?”
“I’m not. I’m on Liam’s laptop.”
I looked toward the small home office off the dining room. His laptop sat open on the desk.
Brooke continued.
“He left a video conference app running. It’s connected to your monitor because he uses the laptop to check the nursery camera when he’s away.”
Liam snapped, “Hang up, Brooke.”
“No.”
That single word landed like a brick.
He took a step toward the office.
My father moved into his path.
Dad had never liked confrontation. He taught high school history for thirty-four years and considered yelling a sign that somebody had run out of ideas.
That night he simply said, “Sit down.”
Liam stopped.
Brooke spoke quickly.
“Emma, I need you to know something before he makes me the villain.”
“I’m listening.”
“He told me you were separated.”
Liam laughed bitterly.
“Brooke, don’t.”
“He said you were living together only until the baby was older. He said you knew about me.”
I looked at Liam.
“Did you?”
He said nothing.
Brooke continued.
“I believed him until Wednesday.”
“The call?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“He talked about getting custody.”
The words made my stomach tighten.
“He said you were unstable after the birth and that once he had the baby, you’d probably ‘fall apart enough to make it permanent.’”
My mother made a sound like she had been hit.
Liam exploded.
“That is not what I said.”
Brooke’s voice became sharper.
“It is exactly what you said.”
I looked at the petition still in my hand.
Primary custody.
Exclusive possession of my home.
A story about a postpartum wife who could not be trusted.
The affair suddenly felt almost secondary.
“Brooke,” I said, “why are you warning me?”
Silence.
Then she answered.
“Because I found the file.”
“What file?”
“The one in his suitcase.”
Liam moved.
My father blocked him again.
Brooke went on.
“There’s a flash drive in the lining. Black. No label.”
Liam stared at the suitcase.
Natalie stared at him.
Then she said, “Well, that’s subtle.”
He pointed at me.
“If you open that bag, I will call the police.”
My attorney had told me not to destroy, hide, or access anything clearly belonging to Liam without legal advice. I remembered every word.
So I stepped away.
“Good. Call them.”
His anger faltered.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re accusing me of being unstable. You brought a legal petition into my home and your girlfriend says there may be evidence in your suitcase. Call whoever you want. I’m not touching it.”
Michael, Liam’s father, stood.
“Son, what’s on the drive?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Liam looked at him.
For the first time, he seemed afraid of his father.
That interested me.
Brooke said, “It’s financial.”
I glanced at the monitor.
“How do you know?”
“Because he showed me some of it.”
“Why?”
“He wanted help.”
Brooke worked in finance at the same marketing company.
Not marketing.
Finance.
Liam had described her to me as “some girl from brand partnerships” when I once saw her name on an office calendar.
I almost laughed at the precision of the lie.
She said, “There are expense reports, transfers, vendor invoices. Liam said he was gathering evidence against his boss.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“He told me the company was using fake vendors to move money.”
Liam shouted, “Shut up.”
Brooke did not.
“I believed him. Then I saw his login activity. Some of the vendor accounts were created from his credentials.”
My head spun.
The affair was not the only secret.
Maybe not even the biggest one.
I turned to Liam.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why were you leaving tonight?”
“For space.”
“With financial files hidden in your suitcase?”
His face hardened.
“You’re twisting this.”
Natalie laughed once.
“You literally brought a divorce petition, a secret drive, and a suitcase to your anniversary dinner.”
Diane snapped, “Natalie, stop making this worse.”
Natalie looked at her.
“I’m not the one married to him.”
Diane flinched.
Michael sat back down.
He looked suddenly older.
I realized he knew something.
“Michael?”
He rubbed his jaw.
“Liam called me last month.”
“For what?”
“He asked whether I still knew anyone at the bank.”
Liam said, “Dad.”
Michael ignored him.
“He wanted advice about opening an account without his spouse being notified.”
I stared.
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him to speak to an attorney.”
Liam swore under his breath.
Diane turned on her husband.
“You never told me?”
“I thought it was about a bonus.”
“Why would a bonus require hiding it from his wife?”
Michael had no answer.
Neither did Liam.
Upstairs, Hailey began to cry.
Every instinct in me changed direction.
I handed the monitor to Natalie.
“I’m getting my daughter.”
Liam stepped toward the stairs.
“I’ll get her.”
“No.”
“I’m her father.”
“And she needs feeding.”
He stopped.
That practical fact defeated him more effectively than any speech could have.
I went upstairs.
Hailey was red-faced and furious, her fists opening and closing inside her sleep sack.
I lifted her.
“I know, baby.”
My voice broke for the first time all night.
I sat in the nursery chair and fed her while downstairs my marriage continued collapsing without me.
For several minutes, I allowed myself to cry.
Not because Liam hated me.
That sentence no longer had the power it had six days earlier.
I cried because while I had been measuring formula and counting wet diapers and wondering whether I was doing motherhood right, my husband had been building a case against me.
Hailey opened her eyes.
Dark blue, still deciding what color they wanted to become.
“You don’t know any of this,” I whispered.
She blinked.
“That’s my job. To keep it that way.”
There was a knock.
Natalie.
“Come in.”
She closed the door.
“Police are downstairs.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who called?”
“Liam.”
Of course.
“What did he tell them?”
“That we’re preventing him from leaving with his property.”
“Are we?”
“No. Dad moved away from the door. Liam still hasn’t left.”
“Why?”
Natalie looked toward the hallway.
“Because Brooke is coming here.”
I stared at her.
“She what?”
“She said she has something Liam doesn’t know she copied.”
“What?”
Natalie took a breath.
“An audio file.”
I almost laughed from exhaustion.
“Another one?”
“This one isn’t about you.”
“What is it about?”
She shook her head.
“She wouldn’t say over the laptop.”
Downstairs, a door slammed.
A man shouted.
Then my father’s voice rose for the first time in my life.
Natalie and I both stood.
I put Hailey safely into the bassinet.
“Stay with her.”
“Emma—”
“Stay with my baby.”
I walked downstairs.
Two officers were in the foyer.
Liam stood beside his suitcase.
Michael was pale.
Diane was crying.
And on the front porch stood Brooke Ellis.
She was not alone.
Beside her was a man in his fifties wearing the visitor badge of Liam’s company.
He looked directly at Liam.
“You told everyone I stole the money,” he said.
Liam stopped breathing.
May you like
The man held up a folder.
“But your signature is on every transfer.”
