The following morning David took a planned day off from his fire station job.
He waited until Brenda left the house to go shopping at the mall.
David walked slowly down the wooden basement stairs with a bright flash light.
The air downstairs smelled like cardboard boxes, fresh paint, and heavy dust particles.
Row after row of wooden shelves lined the large back wall of the basement.
Hundreds of completed crafting items sat waiting inside stacked brown shipping boxes.
David noticed small wooden chairs placed right next to high packing tables nearby.
A tiny footstool sat right beneath a tall taping machine on the counter.
It was clear that a child had been standing there working for hours daily.
David took clear photographs of the entire work setup from every angle possible.
He found small hand written notes written in Lilly's delicate print on shipping slips.
She had been forced to write out customer addresses until her small hand hurt.
David: How could someone treat a innocent child like a factory worker?
He remembered how excited Brenda seemed when she brought home new craft supplies.
She had claimed it was just a small weekend hobby to pass free time.
In reality, Brenda had turned their peaceful home into a high volume warehouse.
David heard the heavy garage door roll upward with a loud metallic clatter upstairs.
He quickly walked back up the wooden steps into the warm main kitchen floor.
Brenda walked inside carrying several large shopping bags filled with designer clothes.
Brenda: Why are you sitting in the dark like that, David?
David: I just spent the last hour walking around our basement workspace, Brenda.
Brenda set the expensive shopping bags down on the kitchen island counter hard.
Brenda: That basement is my personal workspace for my small online hobby shop.
David: Lilly's writing is on every single shipping box sitting down on those shelves.
Brenda: She helped me for ten minutes a day out of pure fun.
David: Her teacher says she fell asleep three days in a row at school.
Brenda: Teachers always exaggerate every little thing to create unnecessary drama online.
David pulled out his phone and played an audio recording of his daughter speaking.
Lilly's tiny voice filled the quiet kitchen as she explained her night schedule clearly.
Brenda's face turned completely pale as she listened to the clear sound playback.
Brenda: You recorded our own daughter talking about private home matters?
David: I recorded my daughter explaining why she was crying from total physical exhaustion.
Brenda: I am her stepmother and I have a right to manage this home.
David: You do not have the right to exploit a child inside my house.
Brenda grabbed her designer purse off the kitchen counter with sudden explosive fury.
Brenda: If you do not like my methods, maybe I should just leave.
David: Nobody is leaving this house until we settle this matter completely today.
David walked over to the front door and locked it firmly with the key.