Chapter 2: This Wasn't the First Time
Part 2 ⬇️
My hands were shaking as I watched the footage.
The timestamp showed everything.
Vanessa had walked past the stroller near the top of the stairs — and nudged it.
Not by accident.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The maid had lunged forward and grabbed it before it moved another inch.
That was when Vanessa started screaming.
I turned to look at her.
She was still crying, mascara down her face, hand pressed to her chest like she was the one who had suffered.
"I was trying to warn her," Vanessa said.
"I saw it moving and I panicked—"
"Stop talking," I said.
My voice came out quiet.
That scared her more than if I had shouted.
My older daughter stepped closer and lowered her voice.
"Dad.
That's not all.
Scroll forward two minutes."
I didn't want to.
But I did.
And what I saw on that screen made my stomach drop.
Vanessa was on her phone — smiling — less than sixty seconds after the stroller nearly went down those stairs.
She wasn't calling for help.
She wasn't checking on the baby.
She was texting someone.
I looked up at her.
She looked away first.
Then the maid — still sitting on the floor, still holding my child — said something so quietly I almost missed it.
"This wasn't the first time, sir."
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What the maid revealed next — and who Vanessa was texting — changes everything.
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The truth is worse than anyone in that room expected.
