406: “Don’t Watch the Camera.”

I didn't call Daniel.

I didn't call Mia back.

Instead, I forwarded the photograph to Robert and asked him to come over immediately.

He arrived twenty-five minutes later, carrying his laptop and a small flashlight.

I showed him the image.

He studied it without speaking.

“Do you recognize this angle?”” he asked.

“It looks like the upstairs hallway.””

“Look at the reflection in the window.””

I leaned closer.

The photograph showed Mia standing beside the window, her face turned toward the staircase. The familiar security camera was visible near the ceiling.

But in the glass, faintly reflected behind her, was a second point of light.

A red light.

Smaller than the first.

Positioned lower.

I stared at it.

“There's another camera.””

“Possibly.””

“I only installed three.””

“Then we need to find out whether someone added another one.””

We went upstairs together.

The hallway was dark except for the small night-light near the bathroom. Robert examined the smoke detector, then the camera above the landing.

Nothing appeared unusual.

He moved to the window.

“Did you ever install a motion sensor here?””

“No.””

“Any other electrical work?””

“Not that I remember.””

Robert crouched beside the narrow console table beneath the window.

There was a small ceramic bowl on it, filled with loose change, keys, and a few batteries.

He picked up the bowl.

Beneath it was a faint circular mark in the dust.

Something had been sitting there recently.

He moved the table slightly and shone his flashlight toward the wall.

A tiny black object was attached beneath the wooden ledge.

At first, I thought it was a screw.

Then I saw the lens.

Robert didn't touch it.

“Thomas, step back.””

I stared at the device.

It was no bigger than the end of my thumb, with a small red indicator light and a wire running behind the paneling.

“Someone installed a camera in my house.””

“That's what it appears to be. We shouldn't disturb it until the police have documented it.””

I felt a strange mixture of anger and nausea.

My home had always been my refuge. Margaret and I had argued, laughed, cried, and raised our children within these walls. There had never been a reason to question whether the house itself was watching us.

Now I wondered how long someone had been recording my private life.

“Who would do this?”” I whispered.

Robert looked at me.

“Someone who wanted information. Or evidence. Or control.””

I thought of Daniel's threats.

I thought of Mia's torn blouse.

I thought of the missing footage.

Then I remembered something that had happened two weeks earlier.

Mia had visited while I was gardening. She said she wanted to surprise the children by bringing over some old photographs of Margaret.

She had stayed upstairs for nearly twenty minutes.

When I asked what she was doing, she said she was looking through the photo albums.

I had believed her.

I had never checked.

Robert called the police and explained that we had discovered a possible hidden recording device connected to the allegations against me.

Officer Brooks arrived with another officer shortly afterward.

She photographed the device and documented its position before arranging for it to be examined.

“Mr. Harrison,” she said, “has anyone had permission to enter this room recently?””

“My son and daughter-in-law. My daughter. The children.””

“Any contractors?””

“A technician installed the original security cameras six months ago.””

“Do you know his name?””

I retrieved the invoice from my desk.

Officer Brooks took a photograph of it.

“We'll need to speak with the company.””

She looked at the hidden device again.

“Do you have any reason to believe this was installed to record the incident?””

I thought of the photograph.

“The person who sent me the image knew about the second camera. They said I was looking at the wrong one.””

“Do you know who sent it?””

“No. The number was blocked.””

Officer Brooks made a note.

“We'll investigate the device and the missing footage. In the meantime, please don't access the security system or attempt to remove anything yourself.””

I nodded.

As the officers prepared to leave, my phone vibrated.

Another message from the unknown number.

*CHECK THE DATE ON THE FILE.*

I showed Officer Brooks.

She read it, then looked at me.

“Don't reply.””

“I wasn't planning to.””

“Forward it to the investigating officer. We may be able to trace the source through the proper channels.””

After the police left, Robert remained at the kitchen table.

He opened his laptop.

“Tell me about the security system,” he said.

I explained that the original cameras were installed by a local company called Sentinel Home Protection. The system stored footage on a cloud account, with a secondary backup device connected to my home network.

Robert asked whether I still had access to the backup.

“I think so.””

“Let's check the account settings, but don't open or alter any footage. We want to preserve the original data.””

I logged in.

The dashboard showed three cameras.

Front door.

Garage.

Upstairs landing.

The hidden device didn't appear on the list.

But under the administrator activity log, another notification had appeared.

*NEW DEVICE REGISTERED: 14 DAYS AGO.*

I pointed to the screen.

“That wasn't there yesterday.””

Robert leaned forward.

“Click the details.””

I did.

A device identifier appeared, followed by a network address and a timestamp.

The device had been registered two weeks before the dinner.

The same day Mia had visited to look through the photo albums.

I felt my stomach tighten.

“Can we tell what it is?””

“Not from this screen alone. We need the provider's records.””

I scrolled down.

A second entry appeared.

*EXTERNAL STORAGE LINKED.*

The timestamp was the same.

I clicked the entry.

A file location appeared, but the contents were inaccessible without additional authorization.

Robert took a photograph of the screen.

“That's enough for now. We have a potential recording device, an account access log, and an external storage link. Let the investigators handle the rest.””

He closed the laptop.

“Thomas, there's a possibility this device was installed for a reason unrelated to the incident. We mustn't assume we know the full story yet.””

“I understand.””

But I no longer believed the incident had been spontaneous.

Mia had looked at the ceiling before she screamed.

She had told me not to come closer.

She had torn her blouse only after glancing toward the camera.

And Daniel had known exactly when the recording disappeared.

Someone had prepared for that evening.

The only question was whether they had planned to frame me, protect themselves, or both.

That afternoon, I received a call from an unfamiliar attorney.

He introduced himself as Martin Wells and said he represented Daniel and Mia.