Chapter 16 - The Basement Archive
The basement storage room looked like a museum of stolen lives.
There were six plastic bins.
Each had a woman's name taped to the lid.
Allison.
Rebecca.
Marissa.
Lauren.
Tessa.
Chloe.
Mine was nearly empty.
That frightened me more than if it had been full.
Inside were printed photographs from my social media accounts.
Copies of emails.
A list of my friends.
My parents' address.
My workplace.
My gym.
My favorite coffee shop.
A photograph of my car.
A copy of the deed to my condo.
Someone had studied me.
Not loved me.
Studied me.
Allison's box contained jewelry.
Old bank statements.
A college diploma.
Her passport.
She picked it up with shaking hands.
"I thought I'd lost this."
Detective Martinez looked at her.
"When?"
"The night I escaped."
Allison stared at Derek, who stood at the basement door beside his attorney.
"You told everyone I took everything."
Derek said nothing.
Rebecca's box contained the same kinds of things.
So did Marissa's.
Martinez ordered the room photographed and secured.
Then an officer found an external hard drive.
The label read TRANSITIONS.
Derek finally reacted.
"That belongs to the company."
His attorney whispered something.
Derek shut his mouth.
I looked at Allison.
"What do you think is on it?"
She stared at the drive.
"Videos."
I remembered the bedroom.
My stomach dropped.
"The room."
Allison nodded.
"There was a camera."
Emma whispered, "Where?"
"Inside the smoke detector."
I thought about my brief time inside that bedroom.
Changing clothes after the wedding.
Sleeping beside Derek.
Packing my backpack.
My skin crawled.
Detective Martinez heard us.
Within minutes, officers were upstairs.
They removed a small hidden camera from the marital suite.
Then another from the kitchen.
Another from the dining room.
The breakfast humiliation had been recorded.
Derek had recorded himself throwing the grease-soaked rag into my face.
He had created evidence of his own behavior.
Brenda had created the audience.
The whole family had become witnesses.
By late afternoon, the mansion no longer belonged to Derek in any meaningful sense.
It belonged to photographs.
Evidence bags.
Statements.
Questions.
My father arrived just before five.
He crossed the foyer without acknowledging anyone.
When he saw me, he stopped.
His face broke.
I walked into his arms.
He held me like I was six years old again.
Then he looked over my shoulder at Derek.
Derek immediately looked away.
My father whispered, "We're leaving."
"I know."
But I wasn't finished.
May you like
There was one final thing I needed from Derek.
And for that, I needed him alone.
