Chapter 2 - ONE HUNDRED TWELVE DAYS
At the hospital, the doctor documented severe dehydration, an untreated fracture in Mom’s left wrist, and bruising in different stages of healing.
“These injuries are not consistent with one fall,” he told me.
Jade needed six stitches.
She refused pain medication until she knew Mom was stable.
Allison stayed in the waiting room for twenty minutes before leaving without telling anyone.
She sent me nine messages.
Your mother is manipulating you.
That maid attacked me first.
You have been gone eight months. You have no idea what I endured.
Come home before you ruin our marriage.
I did go home.
Not for her.
A police officer accompanied me while I collected Mom’s medications and clothing.
Allison was nowhere in sight.
Upstairs, my mother’s bedroom smelled stale and sour. Heavy curtains had been pinned shut. A tray containing untouched oatmeal sat on a dresser beside three empty water bottles.
The door had a new lock installed on the outside.
I stared at it until the officer behind me said, “You should photograph that.”
I did.
Then I opened Mom’s closet.
The blue sewing box sat behind a stack of folded blankets.
Inside were prescription bottles, several folded bank statements, and a small notebook covered in faded floral fabric.
Mom’s handwriting filled every page.
Some entries were shaky, but the dates were clear.
January 12: Allison took my phone. Said Ryder is too busy for my whining.
January 19: No breakfast or lunch. Jade brought crackers after midnight.
February 3: Allison grabbed my wrist when I asked about the account. Something cracked. She said the doctor would blame another fall.
February 17: Jade tried to call for help. Allison threatened to report her for stealing.
The last entry had been written three days earlier.
If Ryder comes home, tell him to check his cameras. Allison believes she removed them all.
I sat on the edge of the bed with the notebook in my hands.
Allison had always mocked my security work.
I had spent fifteen years designing surveillance systems for factories, airports, and energy facilities. Before traveling overseas, I installed cameras in the house after Mom suffered a minor stroke.
Allison complained immediately.
“I’m not living inside one of your laboratories.”
Three months later, she called me and proudly announced that she had removed every visible camera.
I argued with her, but the overseas schedule was brutal, and she insisted Mom wanted more privacy.
What Allison never understood was that visible cameras were only the first layer.
The property contained six concealed emergency units built into smoke detectors, air vents, and motion sensors. They were designed to continue recording if the main system was damaged.
Every file uploaded automatically to an encrypted private server.
Only I had the access key.
I opened my laptop at the kitchen table.
The archive loaded slowly.
One hundred twelve days of footage.
The officer stood behind me as I selected the oldest file.
The screen showed Mom’s bedroom at 2:13 in the morning.
Allison entered carrying something behind her back.
Mom was awake.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t do this again.”
Allison brought her hand into view.
It was not a weapon.
It was a document.
“Sign it,” she said.
Mom shook her head.
“That account belongs to Ryder.”
Allison placed the paper on the bedside table.
“Ryder has enough money. You’re going to sign the transfer, or tomorrow you won’t get your medication.”
My breathing stopped.
The officer leaned closer to the screen.
“Can you enlarge the document?”
I froze the frame.
The top line became readable.
Durable Power of Attorney.
The next forty minutes of footage showed Allison threatening, depriving, and finally forcing my mother’s hand across the signature line.
In the final seconds, Jade entered.
“Leave her alone.”
Allison turned.
“You saw nothing.”
“I saw everything.”
Allison smiled.
“Then I suppose you’d better pray Ryder believes the wife he married over the maid he hired.”
The officer looked at me.
“We need a detective.”
May you like
I opened the next file.
“You’re going to need more than one.”
