Chapter 3 - The Missing MinuteMy father came to our house that afternoon.
Ben tried to stop him.
“There's no need to escalate this,” he said.
Dad ignored him.
He walked past us and entered the living room.
He looked at the clean table.
The replaced rug.
The flowers.
Then he asked me:
“Show me the phone.”
I handed it over.
Dad checked the recording.
Then the activity log.
His expression became unreadable.
“Someone opened the file,” he said.
Ben crossed his arms.
“Maybe she accidentally touched it.”
Dad looked at him.
“You don't have to defend yourself unless someone accused you.”
Silence.
Ben's jaw tightened.
I saw it.
Dad saw it too.
He handed me the phone.
“There's a missing minute.”
“What?”
“The recording jumps.”
I checked.
He was right.
The audio ran continuously from 11:46 to 11:49.
But between 11:47:12 and 11:48:05, there was nothing.
Not silence.
Missing data.
Someone had edited the file.
My heart hammered.
“Can it be recovered?”
Dad nodded.
“Possibly.”
Ben stepped forward.
“What are you suggesting?”
Dad turned.
“Nothing yet.”
Then he smiled.
“That’s the problem.”
Ben stared at him.
Dad walked outside.
I followed.
“What do you know?”
He lowered his voice.
“Whoever deleted that section wasn't trying to erase the accident.”
“Then what were they erasing?”
Dad looked at the house.
“Something said afterward.”
I felt a chill.
“What?”
“We'll know soon.”
That evening, I took Ellie upstairs.
Ben stayed downstairs.
At 10:07 p.m., I heard the front door open.
Then close.
I looked through the railing.
Linda.
She entered quietly.
Ben was waiting for her.
They spoke in whispers.
I couldn't hear the beginning.
Then Linda said:
“She found it.”
Ben answered:
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“Did she hear us?”
Linda shook her head.
“We need to get ahead of her.”
I froze.
Get ahead of me?
I reached for my phone.
Then I heard Linda say:
“Your father is involved now.”
Ben swore under his breath.
“We should've handled this before she called him.”
I backed away from the railing.
My heart was racing.
This wasn't about protecting Linda.
This wasn't about an accident.
They were afraid of my father.
Why?
I returned to the bedroom and locked the door.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
You don't know what your husband agreed to.
I stared at the screen.
Another message came.
Ask him what happened three months ago.
Then a photo appeared.
It showed Ben standing beside Linda and Gary.
In a parking garage.
Three months earlier.
I zoomed in.
Someone else stood behind them.
A man I didn't recognize.
I saved the photo.
Another message appeared.
He's lying about the coffee.
I typed:
Who are you?
No answer.
Only one final message.
Ask Ben about the envelope.
I looked at my husband through the crack beneath the door.
Then I remembered something.
Three months ago, Ben had told me he had gone to see his mother.
For “family business.”
He never told me what that business was.
I suddenly understood why Dad had told me not to confront anyone.
The coffee wasn't the beginning.
May you like
It was the moment someone had made a mistake.
And they were terrified I would discover what came before it.
