Chapter 11 - Security Footage And Chandelier Light
The security desk was tucked behind the double doors, in a little alcove off the marble hall where the air felt colder. I didn't want to move from Dad's side, but he kept his hand on my shoulder and guided me and Maya forward together. The bat was still on the floor behind us. I heard one of the staff tell everyone to leave it right there.
The guard was an older man with gray hair and a navy blazer. His monitor wall showed four squares of the same hall we were standing in, all bright white and gold under the chandeliers. He didn't look shocked like the guests. He just looked tired.
"Yes, sir," he said to Dad. "We cover the hall. Chandeliers, sconces, both doors. It records continuous."
My stepmother laughed a short breath behind us. "Good. Then play it. You'll see they were out of control."
Dad didn't answer her. He pulled us in closer so we could see. Maya clutched my vest with both hands. I could feel her shaking through the fabric.
The guard clicked the mouse and typed in a time. The center screen went black, then blinked back on. There we were. Smaller, from up high near a chandelier. The timestamp ran in the corner.
First I saw me and Maya huddled in the foreground. Even on the grainy screen I could tell she was crying. My arm was around her. Behind us, she stood with the dark bat raised overhead. The burgundy dress looked almost black in the camera light.
I felt my stomach drop. Seeing it from above made it worse. We looked so small.
The guard let it play. She swung downward. We flinched. And in the background doorway, Dad came running through. I heard his voice from the speakers, thin and far away but clear.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Maya pressed her face into my side. I didn't look away.
On the screen Dad crossed the marble fast. He got to her at close range. She stumbled backward. The bat hit the floor and rolled a little. The camera caught the shine off the marble when it landed.
My stepmother went quiet behind us. I glanced back once. She was watching herself fall to her knees on the monitor. Her mouth was open. Her long dark hair had slipped forward over her face. She reached up like she wanted to pause it.
"That's enough," she said. Her voice was low. "Turn that off."
The guard paused the video. The frozen image showed Dad kneeling with his arms around both of us, holding us tight. She was on the floor beside the bat. The onlookers were blurred shapes in the back with their hands over their mouths.
Nobody in the alcove spoke for a second. The chandelier light from the hall spilled in through the open doors and reflected off the monitors.
Dad cleared his throat. "I need a copy of that held," he said. "Tonight. Not deleted. Not overwritten."
The guard nodded. "System holds thirty days. I can lock this segment so it can't auto-delete."
"Do it," Dad said. "And give me the incident number."
The guard typed again and a little lock icon appeared next to the file name. He wrote a number on a white card and handed it to Dad. Dad slipped it into his khaki pants pocket.
My stepmother stepped forward. Her heeled sandals clicked on the marble. "You don't need to do that. Delete it. This is a family matter. You're embarrassing us."
Dad turned just enough to block her view of us. "No."
"It's my gala too," she said. Her voice shook. "You can't just keep video of me like that."
"You raised it. You swung it," Dad said, steady. "The cameras saw what everyone in that hall saw."
She looked at the guard. "Erase it. I'm asking you to erase it."
The guard looked at Dad, then back at his screens. He shook his head. "Ma'am, once it's locked for an incident, I can't delete it from here. Management and police only."
Maya tugged my shirt. I bent down a little so I could hear her whisper. "Is it saved?" she asked.
May you like
I nodded and whispered back, "Yeah. It's saved."
Dad squeezed my shoulder. He wasn't glaring now. He was just focused. He looked at the frozen screen one more time, at the three of us locked together under the chandelier light, and then he led us back out toward the hall where the bat still lay waiting on the marble.
