CHAPTER 8: The Cameras Catherine Forgot

Grant asked for the security director by name.
The man appeared from the side corridor in less than a minute, pale and already sweating. He had worked for the Whitmores long enough to know when wealth had turned into evidence.
Grant did not shout.
"Do the nursery cameras still archive remotely?"
The director swallowed. "Yes, sir. Thirty days. Mrs. Whitmore asked for the devices removed, not the cloud archive deleted."
The ballroom absorbed the words in complete silence.
Catherine's face changed in a way only Grant noticed. Not guilt exactly. Calculation interrupted.
"Bring the footage to my attorney," Grant said. "Tonight."
Catherine stepped close enough to lower her voice.
"You are humiliating me."
Grant looked around at the guests, the chandeliers, the photographers who had been told to capture a perfect family, and the child still trembling against Evelyn's shoulder.
"No," he said. "You used him to decorate your life. That was humiliation."
Evelyn felt Henry's breathing slow against her chest.
For the first time all night, the boy believed someone powerful had heard him.
Grant crouched enough to meet Henry's eyes. The move wrinkled his tuxedo pants and ruined the perfect line of his evening, but he no longer cared about perfect lines.
"I should have asked sooner," he said. "I am asking now."