Chapter 8 - The Evidence Brandon Erased in Front of Me
Nora's phone looked absurdly small in Brandon's hand.
He unlocked it by pressing her thumb to the screen before she could pull away.
"Brandon," I said.
He ignored me.
The photo gallery opened.
His face changed immediately.
There were six photographs.
The courtyard camera log.
The 2:41 manual shutdown.
The disabled balcony microphone.
The C.S. remote session.
The export request.
And one image I had not seen Nora take.
It showed the system's device information page with the recorder serial number, cloud controller address, and a line marked EMERGENCY BUFFER: 30 MINUTES.
Brandon looked at Nora.
"Why did you photograph this?"
She said nothing.
Margaret stepped closer.
"Delete them."
He selected all six images.
My throat tightened.
"Don't."
Brandon looked directly at me as he tapped DELETE.
The photographs vanished.
Then he opened the trash folder and erased them again.
"There," he said. "Now we're all less confused."
Nora's face remained still, but I saw the pulse jumping in her neck.
Margaret took the phone from Brandon and searched messages, email, and recent calls.
"No cloud account," she said.
"Staff phones aren't connected to personal services," Nora replied.
"Convenient."
"It was your policy."
Margaret's mouth hardened.
Brandon opened the security tablet, entered a passcode, and wiped the note I had created.
He did it methodically.
One piece at a time.
Photos.
Notes.
Logs from the visible interface.
He wanted me to watch evidence disappear.
"You see?" he said. "This is what happens when you turn ordinary household records into fantasies."
"Ordinary records don't show you disabling a camera thirty-six minutes before you throw your wife off a balcony."
His eyes flashed.
Margaret cut in.
"Nora, you're done here."
Nora looked at her.
"Excuse me?"
"Your employment ends today. Leave the property."
"Mrs. Carter is injured."
"Emma is not your concern."
"She is bleeding."
"Then perhaps she should stop making things difficult."
Nora looked at me once.
Not long.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for me to notice her left hand lower toward the open first-aid case beside the bed.
Her fingers brushed the roll of gauze covering the brass study key.
Then she straightened.
"I'll collect my things."
Brandon stepped aside to let her pass.
At the door, Margaret stopped her.
"If you repeat anything you think you heard today, remember that this family has been paying your salary for eighteen years."
Nora turned.
"No," she said. "Emma's family paid it first."
Margaret's face tightened.
Brandon shoved Nora into the hallway and closed the door.
The lock clicked again.
He turned back to me.
"You have one chance left. Where is the USB?"
"I don't know."
He walked close enough that I could smell his cologne.
"Mom found the blood trail."
I looked at Margaret.
She smiled.
"The fountain," she said.
My stomach dropped.
Brandon saw it.
He nodded once.
"That's what I thought."
They left together.
The lock turned.
I heard their footsteps moving quickly toward the courtyard.
For a moment, despair nearly flattened me.
Then I looked at the first-aid case.
The gauze roll was no longer covering the brass key.
The key was lying in plain sight.
Under it, Nora had placed a thin strip of white tape with three handwritten words.
May you like
STUDY. RED PANEL. NOW.
📖 Follow Emma to the locked study and learn why Nora's three-word message points to a hidden panel Brandon and Margaret never knew existed in CHAPTER 9. 👇
