Chapter 2: The Recording Nobody Was Supposed to See
Reggie slowly lowered his phone.
"Why shouldn't I play it?"" he asked.
Sabrina released his arm.
"I was upset. I don't want everyone watching me cry.""
"Everyone?"" Reggie repeated.
"It's just me.""
Amara stood motionless behind the counter.
Her cheek was still burning.
She could feel the swelling beginning beneath her fingertips.
"Dad, please," she said quietly.
"Just watch it.""
Sabrina immediately turned toward her.
"Can you stop making everything worse?""
Amara looked at her.
"You're the one who said I attacked you.""
"I didn't say you attacked me for no reason.""
"You said I hit you.""
"Because you made me feel threatened!""
"I was standing behind the counter.""
"Your attitude was aggressive!""
Reggie raised one hand.
"Both of you, stop.""
But Amara wasn't going to let this disappear.
Not tonight.
Not after being slapped in front of the register by the same man who had taught her how to count money when she was eight.
She looked at her father.
"You didn't even ask what happened.""
Reggie looked uncomfortable.
"Your stepmother came running out here crying.""
"And that was enough?""
"Amara, watch your tone.""
She swallowed.
"Did you see me hit her?""
Reggie said nothing.
"Did you?""
Sabrina stepped closer to him.
"Reggie, I don't understand why you're interrogating me. I came out here because I was scared.""
Amara pointed at the camera.
"Then let's see what happened.""
Reggie looked down at his phone.
His thumb hovered over the playback button.
Sabrina reached for him again.
"Baby, please. Not tonight.""
He pulled his arm away.
"Why are you so worried about a recording?""
"I'm not worried.""
"Then let me watch it.""
Sabrina's lips tightened.
For a moment, the frightened wife disappeared.
"You're really going to let your daughter turn you against me?""
Reggie stared at her.
"This isn't about taking sides.""
"That's exactly what this is!""
Amara gave a bitter laugh.
"Funny. You didn't seem worried about taking sides when you hit me.""
Reggie turned sharply.
"I said enough!""
Amara flinched.
Not because he raised his voice.
Because some part of her still expected her father to protect her.
She lowered her hand from her cheek.
"Okay," she whispered.
"Watch the video.""
Reggie tapped the screen.
The recording began.
The three of them watched the small display.
First, Sabrina entered the frame.
She approached the counter and reached for the stack of bonus envelopes.
Amara's hand came down over the money.
Even on the tiny screen, the movement was unmistakable.
Then the audio played.
"That's the employees' bonus money," the recorded Amara said.
"Put it back.""
Reggie glanced at Sabrina.
Sabrina crossed her arms.
"That's out of context.""
Reggie didn't respond.
On the screen, Sabrina released the envelope.
She stood there for several seconds, staring at Amara.
Then she picked up the glass.
Amara remained completely still.
Sabrina lifted the glass toward her own face.
And poured the water over herself.
The recording caught every drop.
There was no struggle.
No raised hand.
No physical contact.
Just Sabrina soaking her own blouse.
Then came the scream.
"Reggie! Your daughter hit me!""
Reggie stopped the recording.
The restaurant became so quiet that Amara could hear the refrigerator motor in the kitchen.
Sabrina stared at the floor.
Reggie looked at the phone again.
Then at his wife.
"Explain that.""
Sabrina's mouth opened.
Closed.
Then she sighed.
"You're making it look worse than it was.""
"Making what look worse?""
"Everything.""
"You poured water on yourself.""
"I was overwhelmed!""
"And then you told me Amara hit you.""
Sabrina lifted her chin.
"I was scared of her.""
Reggie pointed at the screen.
"She didn't touch you.""
"You don't know what happened before the recording.""
Amara stared at her.
"The recording starts when you walk up to the counter.""
Sabrina turned toward her.
"Nobody asked you.""
Reggie looked at his daughter.
"Amara, go home.""
She blinked.
"What?""
"Go home. I need to talk to Sabrina.""
Amara slowly lowered her hand.
"You're sending me home?""
"I said I need a minute.""
"After you slapped me?""
Reggie rubbed his forehead.
"I made a mistake.""
"That isn't an apology.""
Sabrina immediately stepped in.
"Reggie, don't let her speak to you like that.""
He glanced at his wife.
For a moment, Amara thought he might finally tell Sabrina to stop.
Instead, he said, "Sabrina, please.""
Please.
That was all.
Amara looked down at the envelopes.
There were seven of them.
Seven people who had worked extra hours to keep the restaurant running.
Seven people who trusted her to deliver their bonuses.
She gathered the envelopes and placed them in the locked register drawer.
Sabrina watched.
"Why are you putting those away?""
"Because I'm going to finish payroll.""
"Your father and I need to discuss who handles that now.""
Amara turned slowly.
"What does that mean?""
Reggie hesitated.
Sabrina answered for him.
"It means I'm going to take over the financial side of the restaurant.""
Amara stared at her.
"You've never handled payroll.""
"I've managed our household finances.""
"That's not the same thing.""
"Amara," Reggie warned.
Sabrina continued.
"I've been watching how things operate here. There are too many expenses that nobody questions. Too much money being handed out without proper oversight.""
Amara felt something cold settle in her stomach.
"What expenses?""
"Staff bonuses, overtime, supplies. All of it.""
"Those are documented.""
"Not properly.""
"They're in the accounting system.""
Sabrina looked at Reggie.
"See? This is what I mean. She thinks nobody can question her.""
Amara took a breath.
"Fine. You want to manage the finances? Show me the restaurant's books tomorrow.""
Sabrina smiled.
"Gladly.""
Reggie finally put his phone away.
"That's enough for tonight. Amara, go home.""
This time, Amara didn't argue.
She grabbed her purse from beneath the counter.
At the front entrance, she paused and looked back.
Her father was standing beside Sabrina.
Sabrina had one hand on his chest.
The other was holding the empty glass.
Amara remembered something her mother used to say.
People who want to control you will first convince you that defending yourself is disrespect.
Her mother, Denise, had died when Amara was seventeen.
The restaurant had been her mother's dream.
She had helped Reggie open it with money from her retirement savings and years of cooking for neighborhood events.
After she died, Amara had stayed.
She had believed she was preserving something that belonged to both her parents.
Now she wasn't sure what she was protecting.
She stepped outside.
The November air was cold against her wet eyes.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from one of the servers appeared.
*Jasmine:*
Hey girl, are the bonuses ready? Everybody's asking because we need them before rent is due.
Amara stared at the screen.
She typed:
Yes. They're safe. I'll make sure everybody gets paid.
Then another message appeared.
This one was from an unknown number.
*Unknown:*
You need to check the restaurant's bank statements before Sabrina gets control.
Amara stopped walking.
She read it again.
Then a second message arrived.
Your father doesn't know what she's been doing with the money.
Amara looked back through the restaurant window.
Sabrina was standing beside Reggie, smiling as she wiped the last drops of water from her blouse.
May you like
Whoever had sent the message knew something.
And they knew enough to be afraid.
