Chapter 4 - The Betrayal Unveiled
I stared at the shipping receipt under the cold fluorescent lights of the garage, the paper crinkling slightly in my trembling grip. My mind raced back over the last two years—every cold shoulder from Tyler, every dismissive sigh from Mark, every time Mark told me I was being "too sensitive" whenever Tyler crossed the line.
I had thought Tyler was just a troubled, resentful teenager acting out of teenage malice. But this receipt changed the entire equation.
Mark bought the timer.
Why would Mark purchase the exact hardware used in the device under his own daughter’s bed?
I folded the receipt, slipped it into my pocket, and closed the metal lockbox, leaving it exactly as I had found it. I walked back into the house, my footsteps echoing quietly on the hardwood floor.
In the living room, Officer Ramos was standing over Tyler, who sat with his head buried in his hands, crying genuine tears now that the adrenaline had worn off and the police presence had made the consequences terrifyingly real. Mark was pacing near the kitchen island, looking desperate and exhausted.
“Rebecca,” Mark said, rushing over to me as soon as I walked in. His voice was a frantic whisper. “Where were you? Look, the bomb squad cleared it. It’s a fake, just like Tyler said. The cops are talking about filing minor disturbance charges, but we can fix this, right? We can tell them it was a misunderstanding and send Tyler to his room for a week—”
“Mark,” I interrupted, my voice devoid of any warmth or emotion. I looked straight into his eyes. “Where were you last Tuesday afternoon?”
Mark blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in topic. “What? Tuesday? I was... I was at the office. Working late on the Henderson account. Why are you asking about that?”
“That’s funny,” I replied, pulling the folded shipping receipt from my pocket and letting it drop onto the kitchen island. “Because according to this invoice, you weren’t just working. You were receiving a package from an industrial electronics supplier. The exact supplier that manufactured the tactical timer found under Lily’s bed.”
Mark’s face drained of all color. He stared at the small slip of paper as if it were a venomous snake.
From the couch, Tyler stopped crying. He slowly lifted his head, his tear-streaked face twisting into utter confusion as he looked at his father.
“Dad?” Tyler whispered, his voice cracking. “What is she talking about?”
May you like
Before Mark could stutter out a defense, Officer Ramos stepped into the kitchen, his sharp eyes locking onto the receipt on the counter, then shifting slowly to Mark.
“Mr. Vance,” Ramos said, resting his hand firmly on his holster. “Looks like we need to have a much longer conversation downtown.”
