Chapter 3 - The Missing Evidence
I sat in the back of the police cruiser, watching helplessly as the CPS worker carried my crying baby out of the hospital.
My entire life was being systematically dismantled by my mother's vicious lies.
I knew that arguing with the arresting officers would only make me look like the violent monster Patricia claimed I was.
I forced myself to take deep, calculated breaths and think logically.
I needed undeniable proof to destroy her fabricated story and get my family back.
Then, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.
Two weeks before Owen was born, Hannah and I had installed a hidden nanny camera disguised as a smoke detector in our bedroom.
Patricia and Courtney had absolutely no idea that the camera even existed.
The device recorded directly to a tiny SD card and saved backups to a local home server.
If I could just get my hands on that memory card, I could prove exactly who abused Hannah.
I politely asked the officer driving the cruiser if he could loosen my cuffs because I was losing circulation.
When he pulled over to the side of the road and opened the back door, I kicked him squarely in the chest.
I did not want to hurt him, but I was fighting for the very survival of my wife and child.
I scrambled out of the car, sprinting through the dense woods bordering the highway to evade capture.
I ran for three grueling miles until I finally reached my quiet neighborhood.
I crept through my neighbor's backyard and slipped through the unlocked kitchen window of my own house.
The house was completely silent, filled only with the lingering smell of trash and spoiled food.
I tiptoed down the hallway and slipped quietly into the master bedroom.
I climbed onto the mattress and reached up to unscrew the hidden camera from the ceiling.
My heart sank into my stomach when I felt empty, jagged plastic.
The camera had been violently smashed to pieces, and the SD card slot was completely empty.
Suddenly, I heard the distinctive click of a handgun hammer cocking right behind my head.
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I slowly turned around with my hands raised in the air.
Courtney was standing in the doorway, aiming my own registered hunting pistol directly at my face.
