Chapter 4 - The Bear Witness
I didn't sleep. I sat at my cheap kitchen table with an SD card reader plugged into my laptop. There were hundreds of hours of audio. I skimmed through them, listening to Chloe playing, me singing her to sleep, the mundane sounds of our life.
And then I found the files from the weekend at Eleanor's house.
I clicked play on a file timestamped Saturday afternoon. The audio was clear.
“Eleanor, she’s crying again,” Marcus’s voice echoed from the laptop speakers. “Let her cry,” Eleanor’s cold voice replied. “Clara has made her soft. If she wants to eat before dinner, she needs to learn there is pain associated with breaking my rules. Bring her to the sink, Marcus.” “Mom, are you sure?” “Do you want her to end up white trash like her mother? Bring her here.”
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I slammed my hand over my mouth to muffle my sob. Marcus hadn't just been in the other room. He hadn't just been willfully ignorant. He had walked her to the kitchen. He had handed our daughter over to the fire.
I didn't call a lawyer. I called Detective Ramirez.
