to force myself to mask. I watched him through narrowed eyes, tracking his movements like a hawk.
The app on my phone sat quietly in a hidden folder on my home screen, labeled innocently as Home Security — Potted Plants.
On the fourth night, right at 11:58 PM, my phone buzzed against my nightstand with a silent notification: Motion detected in Emma’s Room.
My breath hitched. Evan had kissed me goodnight at 11:30 PM, murmuring about his back and heading out to the living room couch.
With shaking fingers, I unlocked my phone, opened the app, and tapped the live-stream feed. The screen flickered black and white as the infrared night vision kicked in, casting the room in an eerie, ghostly wash of pale green light.
What the camera revealed in the dead of night changed everything.
