CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 6
The Neighbor's Testimony
The hospital room became deathly quiet.
No one spoke after my mother's call ended.
My father slowly lowered the phone, his face drained of color.
"I never told anyone about those hard drives," he whispered.
"Not even me?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"I was afraid that if your mother found out, she'd destroy everything."
Anna looked between us, one hand resting protectively over her belly.
"Then how does she know?"
No one had an answer.
A nurse entered to check Anna's blood pressure, unaware of the storm brewing inside the room. After confirming that both mother and baby were stable, she reminded us that Anna needed rest.
"I'll be back in thirty minutes," she said before quietly closing the door.
As soon as she was gone, my father stood.
"I have to go home."
"No," I said immediately.
He looked surprised.
"She's expecting you."
"Exactly."
"If you go there alone, she'll have time to prepare."
He sighed.
"So what do we do?"
I thought for a moment.
"First, we find out how much other people know."
An hour later, after making sure Anna was comfortable and promising I wouldn't be gone long, Dad and I drove back to our neighborhood.
The morning sun had finally broken through the clouds.
Everything looked ordinary.
Children waited for school buses.
Neighbors watered their gardens.
A mail carrier walked from house to house.
It felt impossible that behind one of those front doors, our family had been falling apart.
Dad parked a few houses away.
"I've always wondered..." he murmured.
"What?"
"How much our neighbors heard."
As if answering his question, the front door of the house across the street opened.
Mrs. Margaret Wilson stepped outside with a watering can.
She had lived across from us for nearly twenty years.
She noticed us immediately.
"Daniel?"
She smiled politely.
"I heard Anna went to the hospital. Is everything all right?"
"The baby's doing well," I replied.
Her smile softened with relief.
"Oh, thank goodness."
She hesitated.
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
She looked toward our house before lowering her voice.
"Is... everything finally coming out?"
My father and I exchanged a glance.
"What do you mean?" I asked carefully.
Mrs. Wilson set down the watering can.
"I've been waiting years for someone to ask."
We followed her onto the front porch.
She poured three cups of coffee with trembling hands.
"I wasn't sure whether to say anything."
"Why not?" Dad asked.
"Because every time I tried..."
She looked away.
"...Anna begged me not to."
My heart stopped.
"You talked to Anna?"
Mrs. Wilson nodded.
"Several times."
"When?"
"The first time was last winter."
She sighed deeply.
"It was snowing."
"I looked outside and saw Anna sitting alone on your back steps."
"She wasn't wearing a coat."
I frowned.
"She told me she liked the cold."
Mrs. Wilson's eyes filled with sadness.
"No."
"She told you that because she didn't want you to worry."
She disappeared inside for a moment and returned carrying a small tin box.
"I've kept these."
Inside were several handwritten notes.
"Anna left these in my mailbox."
I unfolded the first one.
It read:
Thank you for asking if I was okay. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the truth. Please don't be angry with Mrs. Carter. I don't want to make things worse.
My chest tightened.
There were six more notes.
Every single one thanked Mrs. Wilson for her kindness.
Every single one begged her not to interfere.
Anna had been protecting everyone except herself.
Mrs. Wilson looked at my father.
"I need to tell you something difficult."
He nodded silently.
"There were nights when I heard shouting."
Dad closed his eyes.
"I thought so."
"I never heard Anna shout back."
"Never."
"Only your wife."
She swallowed.
"Then everything would suddenly become quiet."
I asked the question I was almost afraid to hear.
"Did you ever see... anything physical?"
Mrs. Wilson hesitated for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"One afternoon."
"It was about three months ago."
She pointed toward the side yard separating our homes.
"I was trimming my roses."
"Anna was hanging baby clothes on the clothesline."
"I remember because they were tiny pink dresses."
A faint smile crossed her face before disappearing.
"Your mother came outside."
"What happened?" I asked.
"At first they were just talking."
"Then your mother grabbed the basket."
"She threw every piece of baby clothing onto the ground."
Dad lowered his head.
Mrs. Wilson continued quietly.
"Anna bent down to pick them up."
"Your mother..."
She struggled to finish.
"...stepped on them."
I clenched my fists.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I tried."
She stood and walked to a cabinet near the hallway.
When she returned, she was holding an old cell phone.
"I still have the call log."
She handed it to me.
There it was.
My number.
Three missed calls.
The same afternoon.
I stared at the screen in disbelief.
"I never received these."
Dad looked up sharply.
"What?"
Mrs. Wilson sighed.
"I came over that evening."
"Your wife answered the door."
"She said everything was fine."
"But before I left..."
She looked toward our house again.
"...your mother thanked me for checking on 'her emotional daughter-in-law.'"
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"She's been controlling the story for months."
"For longer," Mrs. Wilson corrected gently.
She looked directly at him.
"Harold..."
"You've changed."
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"You used to wave every morning."
"You used to stop and chat."
"Then one day..."
"...you stopped looking people in the eye."
Dad didn't answer.
Because he couldn't.
She was right.
"There was something else," Mrs. Wilson said.
"I wasn't sure whether it mattered."
"It does," I replied.
She walked to a bookshelf and picked up a small envelope.
Inside was a USB flash drive.
"I installed a security camera over my garage last year after someone stole packages."
She placed the drive in my hand.
"It records part of your driveway."
My pulse quickened.
"I reviewed the footage after hearing arguments one afternoon."
She took a slow breath.
"I never showed it to anyone."
"Until now."
Dad and I hurried back to the hospital.
Using my laptop, we opened the video files.
The timestamp matched a date from two months earlier.
I watched my own car leave the driveway for work at 8:03 a.m.
Five minutes later...
Mother walked outside.
She looked around carefully.
Then she reached into her pocket.
She removed...
My spare car keys.
I frowned.
"What is she doing?"
The camera showed her opening my car door.
She leaned inside for nearly a full minute.
Then she closed it and walked calmly back into the house.
Dad stared at the screen.
"I've never seen this before."
Neither had I.
Another clip played automatically.
That evening, I returned home.
I kissed Anna.
She smiled.
Then I frowned at something in my hand.
My wallet.
It had been opened.
Cash was missing.
I remembered that night perfectly.
I'd assumed I'd lost the money at work.
But now...
I watched my mother secretly place several bills into Anna's purse while no one was looking.
Minutes later, I accused Anna of being careless.
She'd cried.
She'd apologized.
And I...
I had believed the lie.
I buried my face in my hands.
"Oh, God..."
Dad whispered, "She was framing Anna."
Before either of us could recover from the shock, another video file began.
The title was simple.
Driveway_Cam_47.mp4
The date...
Was the day before Anna's bruises first appeared.
The screen faded in.
My mother stood on the porch.
Waiting.
Then Anna walked outside carrying groceries.
May you like
What happened next made my blood run cold.
End of Chapter 6
