Chapter 3 — Rewinding the afternoon footage to the exact moment of delivery
The loading wheel on Samantha’s phone spun for a fraction of a second before the video feed snapped into crisp high-definition color.
The timestamp in the upper left corner read 1:15 PM.
The camera angle captured the entire length of the front porch under an overcast, gray sky.
A gray delivery van idled at the curb near the edge of the driveway.
The delivery driver hopped out from the driver’s side door, holding a medium-sized rectangular cardboard box against his chest.
He hurried up the wooden steps to avoid the mist beginning to spit from the clouds.
The courier placed the box neatly against the front door pillar, right beside the welcome mat.
He straightened up, gave the package a quick pat with his gloved hand, and turned back toward the steps.
The video playback clearly showed the cardboard flaps were left slightly unsealed by the courier.
The driver jogged back to his van under the darkening sky, climbed inside, and drove off down the street.
The porch went completely empty for a few moments.
The wind picked up, rustling the bushes lining the front of the house.
Samantha kept her finger on the bottom of the screen, ready to scrub the playback forward to the critical timestamp.
Oliver watched the screen intently, his arms crossed over his chest, his earlier anger replaced by tense concentration.
Chloe leaned in closer, watching the empty porch on the display.
The clock on the video timestamp advanced forty minutes into a rapidly worsening storm.