Chapter 3 - The Yellow NotebookEvan sat at the kitchen table with Noah's notebook open in front of him.
The house was quiet.
Lily was asleep on the couch where Evan could see her, curled beneath a soft blanket.
Every few minutes, she stirred and murmured in her sleep.
Noah sat across from his father, hugging his knees against his chest.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
Evan looked up.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because I wasn't supposed to write anything.”
“Who told you that?”
Noah stared at the table.
“Claire said people who write bad things about their family don't deserve to live in a nice house.”
Evan slowly closed his hand around the notebook.
He wanted to promise that Claire would never come near them again.
But he had already made too many promises about a home he hadn't truly understood.
So he chose something he could guarantee.
“You didn't do anything wrong by writing down what happened.”
Noah rubbed his eyes.
“I didn't remember all the dates.”
“That's okay.”
“Some days I just drew an X.”
“That's okay too.”
The notebook began in January.
At first, Noah had used simple descriptions.
Lily cried.
Claire got mad.
Dad at work.
Later entries were more specific.
February 12. Lily didn't eat lunch. Claire made her stand by the stairs.
March 3. Claire pulled Lily's arm because she spilled juice.
April 17. Lily screamed. Claire said nobody would believe us.
Evan checked the dates against his work calendar.
He remembered February 12.
He had traveled to a meeting outside the city.
On March 3, he had worked late.
April 17 had been the day he signed a major contract.
He had come home with flowers for Claire.
He remembered kissing Lily goodnight.
He had never noticed how tightly she clutched her stuffed rabbit.
Noah watched him turn the pages.
“Sometimes I got the days wrong.”
Evan shook his head.
“We'll check what we can. You don't have to prove everything tonight.”
“I wanted you to know.”
“I know.”
“No,” Noah whispered. “I wanted you to know before today.”
Evan felt the words settle heavily between them.
He moved his chair beside Noah's.
“Tell me what I missed.”
The boy's chin trembled.
“You always asked Claire if we were good.”
Evan nodded.
“And she always said I was difficult.”
“Yes.”
“So then you'd tell me to behave better.”
Evan remembered those conversations too.
He had been exhausted.
Claire had described endless tantrums, defiance, and fighting.
He had responded like a man trying to solve an inconvenience.
More rules.
Earlier bedtimes.
Less screen time.
He had never asked Noah what was happening.
“I'm sorry,” Evan said.
Noah looked surprised.
“You believe me now?”
“Yes.”
“Even if Claire says I'm lying?”
“Yes.”
For the first time that evening, the boy's shoulders relaxed slightly.
Evan turned to the page marked June 4.
There was a drawing of the staircase.
Underneath, Noah had written:
Camera black. Nolan came.
Evan frowned.
“Who's Nolan?”
Noah gave him a puzzled look.
“Mr. Price.”
Evan knew Nolan Price.
For eight years, Nolan had handled administrative work for Evan's consulting business and helped manage records connected with the children's family trust.
He arranged contractors, organized paperwork, and sometimes coordinated maintenance at the house.
Claire often called him whenever something needed repairing.
“What was Nolan doing here?” Evan asked.
“He checked the camera.”
“When?”
“Before dinner. Claire told him it kept turning on when it wasn't supposed to.”
Evan looked up.
“Those were her words?”
Noah nodded.
“She was mad because a little green light came on.”
Evan remembered the camera.
It had been mounted high in the entrance hallway after Sarah's death, part of a basic home-security system.
It faced the front entrance and caught part of the staircase landing.
The camera had stopped recording several months earlier.
At least, that was what Claire told him.
She had called it a defective piece of equipment.
Evan had told Nolan to arrange repairs.
“Did Nolan fix it?” he asked.
Noah shrugged.
“I don't know. He took a little black box out of his bag.”
Evan's pulse quickened.
“Did you see what he did with it?”
“He plugged it into the thing by the coat closet.”
The security control panel.
Evan glanced toward the hallway.
“What happened afterward?”
“The green light went away.”
“And Claire?”
“She smiled.”
Noah said it without expression.
Somehow, that made it worse.
Evan took out his phone and opened the security application.
The camera appeared offline.
He checked the recording history.
No clips.
No alerts.
Nothing from the previous several weeks.
He checked the system notifications.
A maintenance message dated June 4 appeared.
Device configuration updated successfully.
Below it was an account identifier.
NP-ADMIN.
Nolan Price.
Evan stared at the screen.
He had never given Nolan permission to disable recordings permanently.
He opened an older notification.
Another configuration change.
March 3.
Then April 17.
Dates that appeared in Noah's notebook.
Evan didn't yet know what those changes meant.
But he knew they needed to be preserved.
He photographed the screen and exported the available logs without altering the settings.
Then he called his attorney.
Before the call connected, Noah touched his arm.
“Daddy, there's something else.”
Evan looked at him.
“What?”
“I didn't just write things down.”
The boy hesitated.
“Claire said nobody would believe a kid.”
Evan waited.
“So I tried to get proof.”
May you like
His eyes moved toward the hallway.
“I hid my tablet where she couldn't see it.”
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