CHAPTER 2: WHAT THE CAMERA SAW
CHAPTER 2: WHAT THE CAMERA SAW
Three days later, we gathered in a conference room.
My attorney.
The hotel's legal representative.
Two police detectives.
And, eventually, my family.
Preston entered first.
Confident.
Smirking.
The same expression he'd worn his entire life whenever our parents were nearby.
Behind him came my mother and father.
Neither had visited Sophie.
Not once.
The detectives connected a laptop to the large screen.
My father cleared his throat.
"This misunderstanding has gone far enough."
Nobody responded.
The footage began.
The ballroom appeared from above.
Silent.
Unbiased.
Truthful.
The recording showed Sophie sitting beside me exactly where I remembered.
Eating cake.
Swinging her feet.
Coloring on a wedding program with a crayon.
Never leaving the table.
Never approaching the bridal table.
Never touching Preston's phone.
My mother's face tightened.
My father shifted uncomfortably.
Preston crossed his arms.
"That doesn't prove anything."
The detective kept the video playing.
Then came the moment.
Preston walked toward our table.
Not from the dance floor.
Not from the bar.
From the bridal suite hallway.
He paused beside Sophie's chair.
Looked around.
Reached into his pocket.
And slipped something into her jacket.
The room froze.
His phone.
Crystal clear.
Visible from three different camera angles.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody breathed.
The detective paused the frame.
My brother stared at the screen.
His face turned white.
The footage resumed.
It showed him announcing the theft.
Marching directly toward Sophie.
Pulling the phone from exactly where he had hidden it.
Then came the smile.
That private smile I had noticed.
The camera captured that too.
My mother suddenly sat down.
As if her legs could no longer hold her.
My father looked twenty years older.
The golden child wasn't misunderstood.
He wasn't mistaken.
He wasn't emotional.
He was deliberate.
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And the camera had recorded every second.
But the worst part was still coming.
