Chapter 6 - “YOUR FATHER CAN’T HELP YOU HERE.”
Chloe woke properly on the third morning.
Alexander was sleeping in a chair when the monitor changed rhythm.
He opened his eyes instantly.
Chloe was looking at him.
Not vaguely.
Not through him.
At him.
Alexander stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
“Hey.”
Her eyes moved slowly.
Confusion.
Pain.
Recognition.
Then fear.
Alexander lowered himself beside the bed.
“You’re okay.”
It was not completely true.
He hated saying it.
So he corrected himself.
“You’re safe.”
Chloe blinked.
Her fingers moved toward her jaw brace.
Alexander gently stopped her hand.
“Don’t.”
Her eyes filled.
Not dramatic tears.
Just water gathering at the corners because she was frightened and could not ask the obvious question.
“What happened?”
Alexander pressed the call button.
“Nurse is coming.”
Chloe’s lips moved carefully.
Barely sound.
“Dad.”
“I’m right here.”
She looked at his jacket.
Then at his face.
“You look terrible.”
Alexander almost laughed.
It came out as something between a breath and a broken sound.
“You should see the other guy.”
Chloe’s eyes closed briefly.
There she was.
Even hurt, still capable of calling out his terrible humor without saying anything.
The nurse entered, followed by a physician.
For the next twenty minutes Alexander became irrelevant.
Vitals.
Pain scale.
Orientation questions.
Name.
Date.
Location.
Chloe answered most with gestures or muffled words.
She knew who she was.
She knew Alexander.
She knew she was in a hospital.
She did not initially remember how she got there.
The doctor warned them not to force memory.
Alexander nodded.
He meant it.
For almost an hour he asked nothing.
He helped Chloe drink water.
Adjusted her pillow.
Complained about hospital coffee.
Told her the dog had slept in her bedroom at home.
Then Chloe looked at his phone sitting on the tray.
Her expression changed.
Alexander noticed immediately.
“What?”
She stared at it.
“My…”
The word hurt.
He leaned closer.
“Phone?”
She nodded.
“Police are looking for it.”
Her eyes widened.
Then she shook her head.
Fast.
Too fast.
The monitor accelerated.
Alexander put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey. Easy.”
Chloe tried to speak.
“Video.”
Alexander froze.
“What video?”
She closed her eyes tightly.
He almost told her to stop.
Then she whispered.
“Kitchen.”
Alexander felt his pulse in his throat.
“Chloe, you don’t have to—”
“Bryce.”
Alexander said nothing.
Her eyes opened.
“He took it.”
“Your phone?”
She nodded.
Alexander sat very still.
“What happened after that?”
Chloe’s face tightened.
Pain.
Memory.
Maybe both.
“He gave it back.”
“Bryce?”
Another nod.
“Why?”
She breathed through her nose.
“He thought…”
Pause.
“…deleted.”
Alexander understood.
“He thought he deleted the video?”
Chloe nodded.
“Did he?”
She stared at him.
Then whispered a word.
“Cloud.”
Alexander almost smiled.
Of course.
Chloe had inherited his stubbornness and absolutely none of his faith in technology.
She backed up everything because she had once lost a school project at fourteen and had never emotionally recovered.
“Do you remember what was on the video?”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Marisol.”
“The kitchen worker?”
Chloe nodded.
“He kicked…”
She stopped.
Alexander waited.
“Plate?”
She shook her head.
“Cart.”
Alexander stayed quiet.
“He kicked a cart?”
“Grant.”
“Grant kicked it?”
Chloe nodded.
“Marisol fell?”
A tiny nod.
That was new.
Not yet proof.
A witness statement from Chloe.
Important.
But not enough by itself.
“Was Bryce involved?”
Her face changed.
“He laughed.”
Alexander felt anger flare but held his expression steady.
Chloe watched him.
“Dad.”
“I’m okay.”
“No.”
She knew him too well.
Alexander softened his voice.
“I’m listening.”
Chloe closed her eyes again.
“He said she should…”
She swallowed.
“…know her place.”
Alexander remembered the kitchen floor.
The shattered china.
Eli looking down.
“What did you do?”
Chloe’s eyes reopened.
“I filmed.”
“Then?”
“Bryce took phone.”
“Deleted video.”
She nodded.
“Then gave it back.”
“Yes.”
“And later?”
Chloe stared beyond Alexander.
He could see the memory moving through her before she found the words.
“Outside.”
“What happened outside?”
Her breathing changed.
Alexander immediately regretted pushing.
“We can stop.”
“No.”
“Chloe.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“He followed.”
“Bryce?”
She hesitated.
“Bryce. Grant.”
“Anyone else?”
Her forehead tightened.
“I don’t…”
“That’s okay.”
“They wanted phone.”
“But Bryce had already deleted the video.”
“Cloud.”
“You told him?”
She shook her head.
“Then how did he know?”
Chloe’s eyes moved toward the ceiling.
“I said…”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s backed up.”
Alexander closed his eyes briefly.
Of course she had.
A nineteen-year-old’s defiance.
A sentence thrown over her shoulder.
A sentence that might have changed the night.
“What happened?”
“They came outside.”
“Did they hit you?”
Chloe began shaking.
Alexander stopped.
“That’s enough.”
Her hand grabbed his sleeve.
“Dad.”
He looked at her.
“There was another man.”
Alexander felt something inside him go silent.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Student?”
She shook her head.
“Older?”
“Yes.”
“Security?”
“I…”
Her eyes filled again.
“Dark jacket.”
Alexander remembered the blurry traffic-camera figure.
Six feet.
Dark jacket.
“What did he do?”
Chloe’s mouth trembled.
“He said…”
She stopped.
Alexander waited.
“What?”
“He said they needed the phone.”
“Who is ‘they’?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he touch you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay.”
Her fingers closed around Alexander’s sleeve.
Then she said the sentence that would stay with him for days.
“He knew you.”
Alexander stopped breathing for half a second.
“What?”
Chloe looked directly at him.
“He said…”
Pain interrupted her.
She gathered herself.
Then whispered:
“Your father can’t help you here.”
Alexander felt every muscle in his body lock.
He kept his voice calm.
“You’re sure?”
Chloe nodded.
“Those exact words?”
Another nod.
Alexander looked toward the doorway.
Detective Ortiz was standing there.
She had arrived during the conversation.
Neither Alexander nor Chloe had noticed.
Ortiz approached slowly.
“Chloe.”
Chloe looked at her.
“I’m Detective Lena Ortiz.”
Alexander started to stand.
Ortiz shook her head.
“You can stay.”
She sat on the opposite side.
“I heard what you said. I’m not going to make you repeat everything.”
Chloe relaxed slightly.
Ortiz asked only a few careful questions.
Could she identify Bryce?
Yes.
Grant?
Yes.
The older man?
No.
Did she remember a uniform?
No.
A voice?
Male.
American.
Low.
Anything distinctive?
Chloe closed her eyes.
Then frowned.
“He called Bryce…”
Alexander waited.
“What?”
Chloe whispered.
“Mr. Vale.”
Ortiz and Alexander exchanged a glance.
Not Bryce.
Mr. Vale.
Could mean respect.
Could mean employment.
Could mean nothing.
Could mean everything.
Ortiz asked, “Did he call Grant anything?”
Chloe shook her head.
Then suddenly gripped Alexander’s hand.
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
She tried to sit higher.
Alexander steadied her.
“What is it?”
“My phone.”
“We’re looking.”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“There were two.”
Alexander stared at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Videos.”
Ortiz leaned closer.
“You recorded two videos?”
Chloe nodded.
“The kitchen.”
“And the second?”
Chloe looked at her father.
“Outside.”
Alexander’s chest tightened.
“Did it upload?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where?”
She gave him the name of her cloud account.
Ortiz was already writing.
Alexander squeezed Chloe’s hand gently.
“What was on the second video?”
Chloe stared at him.
For several seconds she seemed afraid to answer.
Then she whispered:
“His face.”
Alexander felt the room narrow around those two words.
“Whose face?”
Chloe looked toward the doorway as if she expected someone to be standing there.
May you like
Then she answered.
“The man who knew you.”
