Part 14
I didn't even blink at his performance. I had seen men like Evan before—cowards who hid behind smiles and smooth words until the doors were closed.
"He's lying, Tom," I said plainly, looking up at the Sheriff.
Evan turned on me, his face a picture of righteous indignation. "Arthur, stop this! This has gone far enough! You're making her condition worse! Officer, look at his truck. He's hiding her in there. She needs medical attention right now!"
Sheriff Miller slowly walked down the wooden steps, his boots crunching deliberately on the gravel. He didn't look at Evan. He looked straight at me.
"Arthur, what’s going on here?" Tom asked.
I reached into my heavy jacket pocket and pulled out Tanner’s digital recorder. I didn't say a word. I just pressed the play button and turned the volume up to its maximum setting.
The audio file wasn't the one of him yelling at Maya. It was the sixth file. The most recent one.
Tanner’s voice came through first, small and crying: “Dad, please stop, you’re hurting Lily’s arm! She didn't mean to spill the juice!”
Then came Evan’s voice, cold and devoid of any human empathy: “Shut up, Tanner. If you say another word, you’re next. Your mother can’t protect you. No one can protect you from me in this house. You tell anyone about this, and I’ll make sure you never see your grandfather again.”
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The sound of Lily sobbing softly filled the open air of the parking lot.
Evan's face completely drained of color. The polite, concerned husband persona shattered into a million useless pieces. He reached out, trying to grab the recorder from my hand. "That's fake! That's a manipulated recording! He's using AI or something to ruin my reputation!"
