Chapter 3 - The White Room
The “white room” was upstairs.
David knew it as the spare bedroom.
At least, he had.
Two years earlier, Madison had told him she needed a clean background for product photography. He had helped carry the bed into storage.
After that, he rarely entered.
Madison kept it locked because of expensive equipment.
Tessa did not force entry.
She simply asked Madison to open it.
Madison hesitated long enough for everyone to notice.
“There are lights in there. Cables. Ava isn’t supposed to go in without me.”
“That isn’t what she said,” David replied.
Madison pulled the key from a kitchen drawer.
The room was bright white from floor to ceiling.
One wall had been covered in removable panels creating artificial settings.
A pastel bedroom.
A faux kitchen.
A holiday fireplace.
A blank white studio.
Plastic bins contained carefully labeled clothing sets.
A rack held dozens of children’s outfits.
Shoes sat beneath each one.
On shelves were toys Ava had supposedly received as presents.
Many remained sealed.
David recognized them from videos.
“I thought she played with those.”
“She has enough toys.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
Madison opened another cabinet.
Inside were lighting controls, microphones and backup drives.
Tessa did not touch anything.
She photographed the room with Madison’s permission and documented what she saw.
Ava remained downstairs with Carol.
David walked toward a corkboard.
A production calendar covered the center.
Birthday Live.
Snack Reel.
Morning Routine.
Bedtime Story.
Back-to-School Preview.
Several days contained multiple shoots.
“This is more than a few hours a week.”
Madison’s voice hardened.
“They’re short.”
“Five shoots on Saturday.”
“Some take ten minutes.”
“Do they?”
She looked away.
David saw another page.
Retakes.
Next to Ava’s name were small tally marks.
“What is this?”
“Tracking.”
“Tracking what?”
“How long content takes.”
He stared at the marks.
Twenty-three retakes beside one campaign.
“What happened there?”
“Ava kept saying the company name wrong.”
“She was five.”
“I know how old she was.”
Tessa walked to a shelf.
“Are any videos recorded in Ava’s bedroom?”
Madison shook her head.
“Not anymore.”
David turned.
“Anymore?”
“She asked me not to.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“And before that?”
“Morning routines.”
“You filmed her waking up?”
“Staged. Obviously.”
That word stayed with him.
Staged.
How much of his daughter’s life had become a set?
He looked at the little pastel bedroom panel.
It was smaller than Ava’s real room.
The bed was foam.
The window was fake.
A child’s life reduced to something the camera could frame.
Tessa asked to review specific content later through proper procedures rather than rummaging through private devices immediately.
For that night, she recommended Ava remain with David away from the immediate conflict while the initial assessment continued.
Because David held legal custody, he did not need Madison’s permission to take his daughter to Carol’s house.
Madison stood in the foyer while David packed.
“You’re leaving?”
“For tonight.”
“You’re taking my daughter.”
David stopped.
The words mattered.
“She calls you Mom sometimes,” he said. “I know what you’ve been to her.”
“Then don’t do this.”
“But legally and practically, right now, I’m her father, and I’m responsible for making sure she feels safe.”
“She is safe.”
“I don’t know that she feels safe.”
Madison’s eyes filled.
“You think I’m abusing her.”
“I think I don’t know what happens when I’m not here.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It’s bad enough.”
Madison sat on the stairs.
For the first time since the livestream ended, she looked less angry than frightened.
“If you leave, everyone will think the video was true.”
David almost laughed.
“The video was true.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. That’s exactly the problem. I keep hearing you talk about what things look like.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“I moved her hand. I told her she couldn’t eat a cake we were paid to photograph. I was stressed. I spoke badly.”
“And the rest?”
“What rest?”
“The silent treatment. Taking toys. Making her redo lines.”
Madison wiped at her face.
“Parents use consequences.”
“For refusing to perform?”
“She loves making videos.”
David stared.
“Then why did she say she likes when they’re done?”
Madison had no answer.
At Carol’s house, Ava sat at the kitchen table wearing borrowed pajamas.
Her birthday dress lay folded over a chair.
Carol put a bowl of strawberries between them.
Ava looked at her father.
“Are these for pictures?”
David’s throat tightened.
“No.”
“Can I eat them?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
She took one.
Then another.
On the third, she smiled.
Not her camera smile.
David recognized the difference immediately now.
Her nose wrinkled slightly.
One front tooth showed more than the other.
The expression was imperfect.
Alive.
He looked away before she saw him cry.
Later, after Ava fell asleep, Carol found him in the living room.
“You didn’t know,” she said.
David shook his head.
“That isn’t good enough.”
“No.”
“You trusted your wife.”
“I also liked the money.”
Carol sat across from him.
That was harder to admit.
“The house payment got easier,” David said. “We took that beach trip. We paid Dad’s last medical bills.”
Carol’s expression softened at the mention of her late husband.
“I told myself Madison had built something successful.”
“And maybe she did.”
He looked at her.
“At what cost?”
His phone buzzed.
An email.
Unknown sender.
Subject:
YOU NEED TO SEE THE RAW FILES.
The message contained one sentence.
My name is Maya Chen. I edited Madison’s videos for eight months. The birthday livestream is not the worst thing I saw.
Below it was a link to a secure folder.
David stared at the screen.
Then he read the final line.
May you like
Before you open this, understand something: you’re in some of the videos too.
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