Chapter 3 - SESSION NINE
Nine.
Not one.
Nine.
Detective Ellis refused to tell me more until the forensic team mapped the tablet’s files.
Correct procedure.
I hated it.
Vanessa’s public social-media presence was enormous by ordinary standards.
Not celebrity enormous.
Big enough.
Her account, Chloe & Vee, had 1.8 million followers across platforms.
Children’s fashion.
Hair routines.
Mother-daughter videos.
Sponsored toys.
Hotel trips.
Chloe opening boxes and smiling under soft lights.
I had always disliked it.
Vanessa called me judgmental.
I called it work I did not understand.
She never posted Lily.
At least I thought she didn’t.
I had told her clearly:
“No monetized content with my daughter.”
She laughed once.
“Trust me. Brands want Chloe.”
I believed that insult was simply another sisterly cut.
Now the tablet said Session Nine.
At the forensic interview center, Lily sat with trained specialist Elena Brooks.
I watched from behind one-way glass only because protocol allowed it.
Elena began with neutral questions.
School.
Favorite food.
Pets.
Then:
“Tell me about Aunt Vanessa’s lights.”
Lily picked at the sleeve of her embroidered dress.
“They’re hot.”
“What happens there?”
“Pictures.”
“Anything else?”
“Videos.”
“How many times?”
Lily shrugged.
“A lot.”
My chest tightened.
“Does your mom come?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“Aunt Vanessa. Chloe. Sometimes Mr. Paul.”
“Who is Mr. Paul?”
“He says smile.”
“Does anyone tell you what to say?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do they tell you?”
“That Chloe is best.”
Elena did not react.
“What happens if you don’t say it?”
“No snacks.”
I closed my eyes.
Not starvation.
Not yet.
But punishment through food.
Vanessa had known exactly which buttons would frighten a five-year-old.
Elena continued.
“Tell me about your hair.”
Lily’s face changed.
“Aunt Vanessa said people like mine more.”
“Which people?”
“The little words.”
Comments.
“She read them?”
Lily nodded.
“She said Chloe cries because I steal her pretty.”
“Did Chloe say that?”
“No.”
That mattered.
“What did Chloe say?”
“Chloe said stop.”
My eyes moved toward the interview-room floor.
Chloe was not the architect.
She had been another child in the room.
“Who cut your braid?”
“Aunt Vanessa.”
“Did you say yes?”
“No.”
“What did you say?”
“I wanted Mommy.”
Elena stopped there.
Enough.
Later, Detective Ellis asked whether I knew Paul Danner.
The name meant nothing.
“He appears in several payments from Vanessa’s company.”
“What company?”
“BrightHouse Family Media.”
I had heard it.
Vanessa incorporated it three years earlier to manage sponsorships.
Detective Ellis said:
“We need financial warrants before discussing revenue.”
“Revenue from what?”
“We’re still determining that.”
Then she showed me a single still image from the livestream because it was already authenticated enough for identification.
Lily sat under the beauty lights.
Vanessa behind her.
Off to one side stood a man in a black polo.
Paul.
He was holding a clipboard.
On it:
LILY M. — ENGAGEMENT TEST.
Below:
CHLOE M. — CONTROL.
I stared at the words.
“What are they testing?”
“We don’t know yet.”
But someone did.
At the bottom of the clipboard, partly cut off, appeared a company logo.
Not BrightHouse.
A larger one.
Northstar Junior Brands.
I knew that name.
May you like
They had just announced a nationwide children’s apparel campaign.
And Chloe had been introduced online as its new face.
