As the days passed, I waited anxiously, tending my garden with distracted hands as my mind raced over the possibilities. I knew Vanessa was cunning and ruthless, but I also knew that power often breeds carelessness, a belief in one’s invincibility. It was a dangerous game, and Leo’s safety was the stakes.
Each day, I found myself returning to my old habits, keeping a meticulous journal of notes and observations. The way Vanessa’s eyes shifted when she spoke, how she always kept her voice level and sweet around others but dropped it to a hiss when alone with Leo. And Leo—my brave little Leo—had learned too early how to keep secrets and wear a mask.
After a week, I retrieved the teddy bear. In the quiet of my study, I extracted the recorder and connected it to my computer. The files were there—hours of conversations and the low rumble of a television, interspersed with sharp words from Vanessa and the occasional whimper from Leo.
