Chapter 1 - The Camera Turned OnMavis believed the nursery camera had been dead for months.
That was why she stopped watching her voice.
And why she stopped watching her hands.
One-year-old Evan sat strapped into his high chair in the breakfast room of the Mercer estate, his face wet with tears.
Porridge covered his mouth.
His cheeks.
The front of his pale-blue shirt.
Every time Mavis raised the spoon, Evan twisted his head away and cried harder.
“Eat.”
He pushed the spoon with one small hand.
Porridge spilled across the tray.
Mavis’s jaw tightened.
“I said eat.”
She forced another spoonful toward him.
Evan turned.
The food smeared across his cheek.
“Stop fighting me.”
His crying became louder.
Then—
SLAP.
The sound was quick.
Not enough to knock him from the chair.
Enough to shock him into silence for half a second.
Then Evan screamed.
Mavis stared at him coldly.
“Eat, you little bastard.”
Footsteps pounded through the hallway.
Nine-year-old Landon appeared in the doorway.
His eyes widened.
“MISS MAVIS!”
She turned.
“Stay out of this.”
“STOP!”
Landon ran toward his baby brother.
Mavis stepped between them.
“You’re becoming just as disrespectful as your father.”
“He’s a baby!”
“He needs discipline.”
“He’s one!”
Mavis’s expression sharpened.
“Both of you need to learn something.”
Landon stared.
“You don’t belong here just because your father says you do.”
His face changed.
“This is our house.”
Mavis laughed.
“No.”
She leaned toward him.
“You two have no right to call this place home.”
Landon glanced at the small camera mounted near the ceiling.
“Dad will see.”
Mavis followed his eyes.
Then smiled.
“That thing?”
She laughed.
“It’s been broken for months.”
Landon said nothing.
Because ten minutes earlier, he had noticed something Mavis hadn’t.
The small power switch near the base was not broken.
It had simply been turned off.
Landon had been suspicious of Mavis for weeks.
Not because he understood adult conspiracies.
Because children understood tone.
Doors closing.
Whispers stopping when they entered rooms.
Mavis telling him not to repeat things.
His father asking questions about incidents Landon knew had happened differently.
So when Landon walked past the camera that morning, he reached up using a chair.
CLICK.
A small green light appeared.
The camera had connected automatically to Reid’s account.
Mavis hadn’t noticed.
Now, seventy miles away in Manhattan, Reid Mercer’s phone vibrated beside his laptop.
MOTION DETECTED — BREAKFAST ROOM.
He almost ignored it.
He was sitting in a conference room with three executives.
Then Evan’s crying came through his earbuds.
Reid froze.
He opened the feed.
And saw Mavis standing over his children.
At first he couldn’t understand what he was seeing.
Then he heard Landon.
“Dad will see.”
Mavis laughed.
“The camera is broken.”
Reid slowly stood.
One executive stopped speaking.
“Reid?”
He raised one hand.
On-screen, Mavis turned toward Landon.
“You think your father gets to decide everything because he’s their father?”
Landon moved beside Evan.
“He is our dad.”
“Not for much longer.”
Reid stopped breathing.
Mavis realized she had said too much.
But anger kept going.
“Once those papers are signed, your father won’t have the right to decide anything for either of you.”
Landon frowned.
“What papers?”
Mavis froze.
At the office, Reid leaned toward the screen.
His entire body went cold.
Then he pressed the microphone button.
His voice exploded through the breakfast room.
“WHAT PAPERS?”
Mavis nearly dropped the spoon.
Landon spun toward the camera.
“Dad!”
Mavis stared upward.
Her face drained of color.
“Reid?”
He didn’t answer her question.
“What papers?”
“No papers.”
“I heard you.”
“I was angry.”
“What papers, Mavis?”
Her eyes moved instinctively.
Just for a second.
Toward the writing desk near the windows.
Reid saw it.
Under the bottom drawer, partly hidden behind a stack of magazines, sat a thick blue folder.
“Mavis.”
She looked back at the camera.
“Don’t.”
Reid’s voice became terrifyingly calm.
“Step away from my children.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Move.”
Mavis remained still.
Landon reached for Evan.
Mavis caught his arm.
Reid’s control snapped.
“TAKE YOUR HAND OFF MY SON!”
She released him.
Several people in Reid’s conference room were staring now.
He didn’t care.
“Landon.”
“Yes, Dad?”
“Take Evan into the family room.”
“He’s strapped in.”
“Unbuckle him carefully.”
Landon did.
Evan immediately reached for his brother.
Landon lifted him awkwardly but securely against his chest.
“I got him.”
“Go.”
Mavis stepped forward.
“You are not taking that baby anywhere.”
Reid’s voice came through the speaker.
“Mavis, if you touch either child again, the police are going to hear every second of this recording.”
That stopped her.
Landon carried Evan out.
Reid watched until they disappeared.
Then he focused on the desk.
“Mavis.”
She glared.
“Open the blue folder.”
“No.”
“Open it.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Then prove it.”
Silence.
Mavis didn’t move.
Reid called the estate security office from another phone and told them to keep Mavis away from the children until police arrived.
Then Landon suddenly returned to the edge of the camera frame.
“Dad.”
“What are you doing? Stay with Evan.”
“He’s with Mr. Harris.”
The estate’s security officer.
Landon pointed toward the folder.
“I can get it.”
“No.”
“Dad—”
“Wait for Mr. Harris.”
A minute later, Harris entered.
He picked up the blue folder.
Opened it beneath the camera.
The first page became visible.
Reid saw Landon’s full legal name.
Then Evan’s.
Then his own.
At the top:
PETITION FOR EMERGENCY APPOINTMENT OF TEMPORARY GUARDIAN.
Below it:
REQUEST FOR SUSPENSION OF PARENTAL DECISION-MAKING AUTHORITY.
Reid felt the conference room disappear around him.
“What the hell is that?”
Mavis whispered:
“It was supposed to protect them.”
Reid looked closer.
Several pages contained signatures.
One of them appeared to be his.
Except Reid Mercer had never signed a single one.
And on the final page—
under PROPOSED TEMPORARY GUARDIAN—
was another name.
Nolan Mercer.
May you like
Reid’s younger half-brother.
Mavis’s only biological son.
Related Stories
