Chapter 7 - CELESTE LOOKED INTO THE CAMERA

If Celeste knew the camera existed, the entire evidence chain changed emotionally.
Legally, the footage remained what it was.
But why would she allow herself to be recorded saying:
Keep her sick.
If the baby won’t drink it, let your wife do it.
That seemed impossible unless one of three things was true.
She did not understand the device.
She believed recording had no storage.
Or she wanted something captured.
The clip continued.
Celeste took the moon down.
Pressed the back panel.
The tiny status light blinked.
She frowned.
Then returned it.
She whispered:
“Still dead.”
There.
She thought it was disabled.
Why?
Daniel had deleted the app from my phone and turned off local WiFi access.
The camera still used its internal cellular backup module installed by Emily.
Celeste saw no live connection through the home network.
Assumed dead.
“Good” meant safe.
Not intentional evidence.
That was more logical.
Then another layer.
Who had told Celeste about the camera?
Daniel.
An earlier hallway recording from our home security system, recovered before he disconnected it:
Daniel:
Nora’s sister put some camera in the nursery.
Celeste:
Remove it.
Daniel:
She’ll notice.
Celeste:
Disable it.
Daniel did.
Partly.
Again, their confidence depended on incomplete technical understanding.
My old job saved me indirectly because Emily chose a camera designed for evidence preservation.
She said when she bought it:
“You are paranoid.”
I answered:
“I am professionally trained.”
Now she did not find the joke funny.
Then prosecutors recovered Daniel’s deleted browsing history from a cloud synchronized browser.
Search:
How to permanently erase nanny camera SD.
Can deleted cloud camera footage be recovered.
Wooden moon baby monitor cellular backup.
Dates:
After my hospitalization.
He finally discovered what the device was.
Too late.
At 3:14 a.m. the morning after poisoning, while I was in ICU, Daniel entered the nursery.
Removed the moon.
Smashed it with a hammer in the garage.
Police recovered fragments.
He assumed destruction erased cloud copies.
It did not.
Then he told detectives:
“We did not have a nursery camera.”
That lie mattered.
Why deny if innocent?
His attorney later said panic.
Maybe.
Combined evidence much worse.
Celeste also texted:
Did you get rid of it?
Daniel:
Yes.
Celeste:
ALL of it?
Daniel:
Stop texting.
Then:
Delete this.
Preserved in cloud backup.
Again, not criminal genius.
Desperation.
Then the Baxter vote happened without me.
Or rather, it did not.
Reed board postponed indefinitely after my hospitalization.
Baxter Ridge withdrew original offer pending investigation.
Larkin’s integration agreement expired.
Daniel lost his bonus.
His employer suspended him.
Thomas Vale recused from Larkin board review.
The financial motive collapsed before prosecutors even charged.
Yet the corporate investigation uncovered something bigger.
Baxter Ridge had been willing to pay a premium for Reed Biologic because of one asset.
Not warehouses.
Not contracts.
A proprietary cold chain authentication system called Northstar Trace.
My father developed it quietly after the old South Harbor incident.
Northstar Trace tracked temperature sensor integrity and chain of custody for high risk pharmaceuticals.
Baxter Ridge wanted access.
Why?
They planned to integrate it across several healthcare companies.
Legitimate value.
But Reed management had discovered a vulnerability.
Six months earlier, our engineers found certain external sensor modules could be spoofed by a vendor firmware update.
Vendor:
Larkin Pharmaceutical Services.
Daniel’s employer.
That was why I wanted an independent cyber audit before Baxter vote.
I had not told Daniel details.
Only:
“The sensor integrity issue is unresolved.”
He became defensive.
“Larkin equipment is certified.”
I thought spouse loyalty to employer.
Maybe he knew more.
Reed internal emails showed Daniel had requested technical documents from one of our engineers without my authorization.
The engineer refused.
Then someone accessed the files using my board credentials.
My credentials.
Three months earlier.
Home IP address.
Daniel.
Again.
He had entered my corporate portal.
What did he download?
Northstar Trace audit.
It showed Larkin firmware could falsely validate temperature events.
In plain language:
A compromised module might say medicine stayed cold when it did not.
Dangerous.
Had any patient been harmed?
No confirmed incident.
Reed caught anomaly during tests.
We froze firmware deployment.
Larkin disputed severity.
Baxter acquisition would potentially bury conflict inside corporate integration.
That was why I was prepared to vote no.
Did Daniel know the vulnerability could affect his employer?
Yes.
He downloaded the audit.
Did Celeste?
Recorder:
Daniel:
If Nora raises Northstar tomorrow, Baxter walks.
Celeste:
Then she does not raise it.
Daniel:
It is not just money. Larkin gets investigated.
Celeste:
And Thomas loses everything.
There.
Celeste was protecting more than Daniel’s bonus.
Her brother Thomas’s company investment could collapse if firmware scandal became public.
Did Thomas know vulnerability?
Maybe not.
We needed evidence.
Then the wooden moon recorded Daniel saying:
“The first thing that has to die is Northstar.”
Not Nora.
Not Sophie.
Northstar Trace.
That was what my opening line truly meant.
The first thing Daniel tried to kill was the evidence system inside my company.
May you like
The second was the truth about how.
Continue to the next part: Nora learns Daniel’s plan began with suppressing a dangerous technology audit that could damage Larkin and Baxter’s acquisition.