Police copied the files.

We did not watch the footage immediately.

Dad did not want me seeing the attack again.

I had already lived it.

The detective later summarized.

At 6:14 p.m., Valerie entered the nursery.

Leo was awake.

She stood by the crib.

Spoke.

The audio was clear.

“You’re making everything impossible.”

Leo fussed.

Valerie unplugged the monitor.

Then walked away for approximately forty seconds.

The camera continued recording on battery.

She returned.

Picked up the pillow.

No ambiguity.

No accidental blanket.

No misunderstood soothing technique.

She placed it over Leo’s face.

Then pressed.

Leo began crying.

The sound became muffled.

At 6:17, my phone received a sound-alert notification from the monitor app because the backup battery still powered Wi-Fi.

I had been downstairs doing homework.

I barely remembered seeing the notification.

Only:

Leo crying.

I went upstairs.

At 6:18, I entered the room.

The rest matched my statement.

Lamp.

Pillow.

Leo.

Bat.

Grandpa.

The recording also captured Grandpa stepping on Valerie’s foot after the bat was already away.

That mattered too.

Evidence does not belong to the person you like.

It records everyone.