Chapter 11 - Olivia’s Secret Audio Recordings
Back at the estate, the afternoon sun filled the living room with warmth and light.
The teetering stroller marks on the hardwood floor had been completely sanded and refinished with polished amber oak. The house felt lighter, cleaner, as if a toxic cloud that had hovered over our lives for months had finally been swept away by the wind.
Olivia sat cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, showing Clara how to use a new tablet we had bought for her.
"Look here, Clara," Olivia said gently, tapping the screen. "This app connects directly to Mateo’s new architecture office in downtown Brooklyn. Whenever he’s designing a building, he can stream his blueprints to your screen so you can see his work in real time."
Clara beamed, running her hand lovingly over Olivia’s hair. "You are too smart for this world, my sweet girl. Just like your mother."
"Speaking of Mom," Olivia said, suddenly turning to look at me as I walked into the room carrying a tray of iced tea. "Dad, there’s something else I haven't shown you."
I set the tray down on the coffee table and sat beside her on the rug. "What is it, Livvy?"
Olivia reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny, silver memory card no larger than a fingernail.
"Three weeks ago," Olivia said softly, looking down at the card, "when Vanessa first moved into the master bedroom, she tried to be nice to me when you were around. But whenever you left for the office, she would come into my room and tell me that once the wedding was over, she was going to pack all of Mom’s photos and paintings into the basement furnace."
My jaw tightened. "She said that to you?"
"Yes," Olivia replied, nodding slowly. "She thought I was just a sad, quiet little kid who would cry under the covers. But Mom always told me: Never let a bully see your tears; let them see your evidence."
Olivia plugged the memory card into her tablet and hit play.
A series of crystal-clear voice recordings began to play through the speakers.
It was Vanessa’s voice, speaking directly to Olivia in a cruel, mocking tone:
"You think your dad actually loves looking at your mother's face every day, Olivia? He wants to forget her. He wants a new wife, a beautiful wife. And once the wedding is done, you and your little sister are going to be out of our lives for good. If you ever try to complain to him, I’ll tell him you hit Emma, and he’ll send you to boarding school tomorrow."
The recording clicked off.
Clara gasped in horror, clutching her chest. "God forgive that wicked woman!"
I reached out and pulled Olivia tightly into my arms, kissing the top of her head as tears burned behind my eyelids.
"I am so proud of you, Olivia," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "You were so brave. You protected Emma, you protected Clara, and you protected this entire family."
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Olivia hugged me back, resting her chin on my shoulder. "Mom told me in a dream before she died that I had to be your second pair of eyes, Dad. I promised her I’d keep you safe."
"And you did, baby," I said softly, holding her close. "You did."
