Alessia leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and spoke with a grim edge to her voice. “I asked Marcus, the private investigator, to pull the camera footage from Zane’s building. I thought it would help clear things up.”
Zayden stopped pacing and turned toward her. “And? Did he find anything?”
Alessia’s jaw tightened. “The cameras weren’t on.”
Victoria, standing by the window, frowned deeply. “What do you mean they weren’t on? That building has a state-of-the-art security system.”
“That’s what I thought,” Alessia replied, her voice laced with frustration. “But according to Marcus, none of the cameras on Zane’s floor—or near the balcony—were recording that night. It’s like someone turned them off.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Zayden said, his tone sharp. “Who would do that?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Alessia agreed. “The cameras are supposed to run 24/7. If they weren’t on, someone must have shut them down.”
Victoria’s voice was cold. “This is starting to sound less like an accident and more like someone planned it.”
Zane’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Planned it? Are you saying someone wanted Pamela dead?”
“We’re saying it’s suspicious,” Alessia clarified, her gaze fixed on him. “And until we know why the cameras weren’t working, we can’t rule anything out.”
Zayden crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. “Did Pamela have enemies, Zane? Anyone who might have wanted to hurt her?”
“No,” Zane said immediately, shaking his head. “Pamela was… everyone loved her. She didn’t have enemies.”
Victoria narrowed her eyes. “What about you, Zane? Could someone have wanted to frame you?”
Zane hesitated, his face pale. “I don’t know. Maybe. But why? What would anyone gain from this?”
Alessia’s expression hardened. “That’s what we need to find out. But right now, we’re on thin ice. Without camera footage, the police are going to keep treating this as a case against you. We need answers, and we need them fast.”