Chapter 9 - The Anniversary Video
It was a Tuesday and the house smelled like leftover pizza and laundry detergent. Daniel had put the little brown jewelry box on top of the fridge where I couldn't reach it, and Mom had been gone since Sunday at Richard's condo to give everyone space. The TV was on low. I was on the carpet trying to do my math worksheet and Daniel was at the kitchen counter with his phone plugged in, his charcoal shirt from the party folded over the back of a chair like he hadn't washed it yet.
His phone buzzed twice. He wiped his hands and picked it up.
It was Aunt Sarah. I knew because her contact photo came up, her in that cream dress from the party with her hair blowing. Daniel stared at it for a second and then hit play with the sound down.
"Hey, Daniel, sorry to send this so late," her text said under the video. "I was clearing my camera roll from the anniversary party. I didn't realize I was recording when things got tense by the lake. Thought you should have it. Let me know if you need anything else, love you both."
He didn't answer her right away. He pressed the video full-screen and turned the volume up just a little. The phone made that little inferred soft chime and then the ambient sound from the lawn came through, faint and windblown.
He sat down on the couch and said, "Ethan. Come here a sec."
I left my worksheet and knelt next to him. The video was shaky at first. You could see the string lights on the house and the white folding chairs and the lake going pink behind them. Aunt Sarah must have been holding her glass when she started recording. The camera swung and then it steadied on the decorated table near the water.
Richard was there in his navy blazer, his hand flat on the table, leaning toward Daniel. Daniel in the video had his sleeves still rolled up and his jaw set. Between them on the white tablecloth was the little dark reddish-brown box, right next to the floral centerpiece. I could see two champagne flutes beside it.
Then Daniel's voice, thin through the phone speaker, "You're not proposing tonight. Not like this."
Richard didn't step back. He said something I couldn't make out and then he swept his hand like he was making a point and caught the edge of the box. It skittered off the table and fell onto the grass. One of the flutes tipped with it and rolled.
I felt my stomach drop because I remembered that sound now, that little clink on the grass I hadn't understood at the time.
In the video, Richard looked down at the box on the lawn and then he looked right past Daniel, right at me. I wasn't in the frame at first, but then the camera found me. I was standing a few feet away by the water's edge in my blue shirt, my hair still dry then.
Richard pointed down. Even without sound I could read it. He bent a little and said it plain, "Ethan, be useful and grab that for me, will you? It's important."
Daniel turned his head fast. He started to say no, but I was already moving in the video, stepping closer to the lake where the grass sloped off. Aunt Sarah gasped behind the camera and the video jolted. Daniel shoved past Richard, his shoulder hitting the table, and that was when Richard threw the punch Daniel had to brace for. The camera dropped for a second and only caught grass and shoes and overturned glasses.
Then it came back up and Daniel was pulling me out of the water, both hands under my arms, my sneakers slipping.
Daniel paused it right there, my white shoes with the red trim frozen mid-splash.
The living room was quiet except for the fridge humming. Daniel didn't look at me right away. He kept his thumb on the screen, his breathing a little heavy.
"You went to the edge because he told you to," he said. It wasn't a question.
I nodded. My throat felt tight.
"Did he push you?" he asked quietly.
"No," I said. My voice was small. "He told me to get it. The grass was wet. I leaned and my foot went out. I tried to catch myself."
Daniel let out a breath through his nose and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. He replayed the last five seconds again without sound, just Richard pointing and me stepping toward the water.
"Ethan, this is it," he said. "This shows it wasn't an accident. He sent you to the water for his box. He knew you couldn't swim that well."
I knew what he meant. This was the proof the sheriff said was missing. This was the thing that made my half-truth a lie.
He stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket. "I have to show Mom. Tonight. She needs to see what he did before she decides anything else about him."
My chest went tight. I grabbed the edge of his pocket where the phone was, not hard, just holding.
"Don't," I said. "Please don't ruin her night again."
He frowned. "What?"
"If you show her she'll cry," I said. I could hear how fast I was talking. "Last time when you yelled at Richard she didn't talk for two days. She said you ruined Grandma's anniversary. If she sees this she'll be mad at you, not him. She'll think we want her to be alone."
Daniel knelt so we were eye level. His hand covered mine on his pocket. He was calm but his eyes were serious.
"Hey," he said. "This isn't about her night. This is about you. She has to know he put you at risk for a ring."
"She already knows he didn't mean it," I said. "She said it was a terrible accident and we should move on. If you show her this she'll have to pick."
He didn't answer for a second. He just looked at the phone in his pocket and then at me, and I could see him deciding to wait, even though waiting felt like it could break something.
"I'm not sending it to anyone," he said finally. "And I'm not posting it. This stays between us and her. But Ethan, I'm not going to hide it either. Are you asking me not to show her at all?"
I nodded and let go. My eyes were stinging. "Just not tonight. Please."
He pulled me into his chest for a second and held the back of my head. His shirt smelled like clean cotton.
May you like
"Okay," he whispered. "Not tonight. But soon. Tomorrow we show her together. Okay?"
I nodded against him, and he held his phone tight in his other hand, the screen dark but the video still there, waiting.
