Chapter 2
Series 1 Chapter 2
I was taking June home when her six-year-old voice floated out of the editing room.
“Daddy always keeps his promises.”
June stopped walking.
On the monitor inside, Noah was standing beside my husband.
His face filled the screen while June’s laughter played underneath it. Then the video cut to an old Christmas morning in our living room.
I had filmed that morning.
A pair of small hands placed a crooked star on a gingerbread house. The editor cut away before June’s face appeared. The next shot showed Cara and Noah decorating cookies with Evan on the studio set.
“Some families aren’t made by blood,” Cara’s recorded voice said. “They’re made by the people who stay.”
June moved closer to me.
“That’s our house.”
“I know.”
The video continued.
Evan ran behind a little pink bicycle, one hand holding the seat. I remembered filming him as June pedaled down our driveway for the first time.
The image faded before she turned toward the camera.
Her excited voice remained.
“Did you see me, Daddy?”
The screen cut to Noah smiling at Evan.
I pushed open the editing-room door.
The woman at the computer spun around. I recognized Tessa, one of the editors who had worked with Evan for years.
“Stop the video.”
She froze the screen on Noah’s face.
“Mae?” Her eyes moved to June. “I thought you’d already approved the family archive.”
“Who told you that?”
“Evan said you handled all the family footage.”
“I do. I filmed most of it, and I edited the clips used in his old family segments.” I pointed at the screen. “I did not approve this.”
Tessa glanced toward the hallway. “We were told these files were already cleared.”
“Cleared for which program?”
She hesitated. “Previous broadcasts.”
“This isn’t a previous broadcast.”
June stared at the frozen image.
“If that’s my voice,” she asked, “why can’t people see me?”
Tessa looked down at the keyboard.
I put an arm around June’s shoulders. There was no answer I could give her that wouldn’t make the truth worse.
They hadn’t removed my daughter.
They had kept the parts of her that made Evan look good.
I looked at the approval panel on Tessa’s second monitor. The Christmas special was marked as sponsored content. Beneath the section for minors was a box labeled FINAL GUARDIAN CONFIRMATION.
It was blank.
“For a branded segment involving a child, you need final written confirmation from a guardian,” I said. “I never gave it.”
Before Tessa could answer, Evan entered the room.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Watching our daughter disappear.”
He looked at the paused video and sighed. “Mae, these are old family clips. You’ve let us use them before.”
“For specific programs.”
“No one watching will care what year a bicycle clip came from.”
“June cares.”
“The video needs warmth. Her voice gives it that.”
“And Noah gives it a more marketable face?”
His jaw tightened. “Cara and Noah represent what the segment is about now. Community. Loss. The people we choose to stand beside.”
“You used our daughter to prove you’re a good father, then cut her out of the family.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“Did you tell them I approved this version?”
“I told them you’ve always handled our family footage.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He checked the clock above the editing monitors.
“We have ninety minutes until we go live,” he said. “Don’t turn this into something bigger than it is.”
On the screen, Noah was still smiling beside my husband.
From the speakers came June’s childhood laughter.
I turned to Tessa.
“Who is the executive producer? Who handles legal review? And where is the final authorization record?”
Evan thought I was asking for an explanation.
I wasn’t.
I was finding out exactly who needed to hear me say no.