My second call was to Oakridge Market’s closing manager.
His name was Mr. Hall.
I told him my five-year-old daughter had apparently been left alone in the store for nearly two hours, and I asked him to preserve every available security-camera recording from four o’clock onward.
I did not want anything automatically overwritten or replaced overnight.
Mr. Hall hesitated.
He said that sounded excessive.
He suggested Megan might simply have made an innocent mistake during a hectic shopping trip.
I repeated one fact.
“Lily is five.”
There was a pause.
Then Mr. Hall told me he would look into the recordings.
Officer Ruiz arrived while Lily was sitting in my lap near the front of the store eating crackers from a vending-machine packet I had torn open for her.
I gave him the timeline as precisely as I could.
Megan and Lily had left Mom’s house sometime around four twenty.
