I opened the smart-home app on my phone and pulled up the cloud archive for the exterior security cameras from that specific Tuesday six weeks ago.
At 10:00 A.M., Charlotte’s sedan pulled into the driveway.
At 10:30 A.M., every camera feed went completely pitch black.
The system audit log indicated a manual override disconnected directly from the main control panel inside the hallway.
Three hours later, the camera feeds miraculously reconnected.
My hands trembling, I began cross-referencing other dates over the past year—days when Theo had been sick at home or when I had worked late past eight o’clock.
The pattern was terrifyingly consistent: Charlotte’s car would arrive, the cameras would be manually shut down for three to four hours, and then everything would come back online as if nothing had ever happened.
At that exact moment, a text notification flashed across my phone screen from Solomon:
“If Theo is still coughing tomorrow morning, I’ll tell my mom to come over again. You shouldn’t miss work.”
It no longer sounded like a helpful husband offering support.
It sounded like an orchestrated operational procedure.
That evening, Solomon came home holding a box of fancy pastries, kissed me on the cheek, and built a block tower with Theo on the living room rug just as he always did. He even casually brought up Jennifer during dinner.
“I might have to stay late at the office with Jennifer tomorrow night,” he said between bites. “We need to finalize the pitch deck for the new account.”
“With Jennifer?” I asked calmly.
“Yeah. Why?” He smirked, taking a sip of water. “Getting jealous?”
He laughed with an effortless, carefree composure that terrified me far more than any nervous slip-up ever could.
The next morning, Solomon left the house in a rush for an early breakfast meeting, accidentally leaving a sleek black secondary phone resting on his nightstand.
I didn’t touch it.
I didn’t need to.
The screen lit up on its own with a barrage of incoming notifications.
Jennifer: “Are we still good for tomorrow?”
A second message flashed right behind it:
Jennifer: “Make sure you turn off the cameras first. Last time, I almost pulled into the driveway before your mom got there.”
And then a third:
Jennifer: “Tell Charlotte to take Theo out to the park for longer this time. I don’t want him wandering into the master bedroom again.”
