The video files loaded. The interface displayed a list of timestamps spanning the last three weeks. Ethan clicked on the file corresponding to the previous afternoon—the exact day Clara had first broken down in tears, claiming Richard had cornered her in the hallway.
The screen flickered to life. The audio was crisp, picking up the ambient hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen down the hall.
On the screen, Clara entered the empty living room. She looked around cautiously, ensuring no one was watching. Then, she walked over to the bookshelf, adjusted the angle of the camera, and muttered something to herself. Next, she picked up a heavy crystal paperweight from the coffee table, deliberately smashed it against the edge of the stone fireplace, and let