Chapter 2: The Camera in the Hallway
I stared at the screen.
“Where did you get this?””
Jamal looked over his shoulder before answering.
“The cameras.””
My eyes moved from the phone to the house.
“You told me those cameras were only for the front door.””
“They're not.””
“When did you put hallway cameras up?””
“After the package theft. You forgot.””
I had.
Months ago, Jamal had spent an entire Saturday installing a small security system. One camera covered the back entrance. One covered the driveway.
And apparently, two covered the hallway.
I had never bothered checking the footage.
Now I wished I had.
“Why didn't you show me this earlier?”” I asked.
“Because I didn't know if it meant anything.””
“Then why show me now?””
“Because Mom started accusing me.””
He swallowed.
“And because last night wasn't the first time.””
My chest tightened.
“What do you mean?””
Jamal scrolled through his phone.
He had dozens of saved clips.
Tuesday.
Thursday.
The previous Sunday.
In one, Kayla walked past the camera at 1:08 a.m.
In another, she stood near the bottom of the stairs at 2:31.
In both videos, she was alone.
In neither did she look frightened.
Instead, she kept glancing toward the camera.
I felt a chill move down my back.
“Why are you recording all this?””
“I wasn't.””
He shook his head.
“The system records automatically.””
“Then why save these?””
“Because I started noticing patterns.””
I stared at him.
“What patterns?””
Jamal hesitated.
“She keeps saying she feels unsafe around me.””
“Yes.””
“But half the time, she's the one coming into my space.””
He opened another clip.
It was from three nights earlier.
Kayla stood outside his bedroom door.
She didn't knock.
She simply stood there.
Thirty seconds.
Forty.
Then she looked directly at the camera.
After that, she walked away.
My mouth went dry.
“Did you confront her?””
“No.””
“Why?””
“Because I didn't know what she was doing.””
I took a breath.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
Jamal laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“Because every time I tried to talk to you about Mom, you said we were supposed to blend together.””
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with this?””
“Everything.””
He locked his phone.
“I knew you loved her. I knew you wanted this family to work. I didn't want to be the reason it didn't.””
I looked at my son.
He was carrying something much heavier than an accusation.
He was carrying loneliness.
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“You should have told me.””
“I know.””
“No. You needed to tell me.””
He looked down.
“I was scared you wouldn't believe me.””
The words stayed between us.
Then the garage light flickered on.
We both turned.
Monique stood in the kitchen doorway, visible through the glass.
She was watching us.
Jamal took a step backward.
“She knows.””
“What?””
“She knows about the cameras.””
“How?””
“Because I told her.””
I stared at him.
“When?””
“Two weeks ago.””
My eyes narrowed.
“And what did she say?””
“She told me to turn them off.””
“Why?””
“She said it was creepy having cameras in the house.””
“And did you?””
“No.””
He looked at the upstairs window.
“I left them on.””
I turned back toward the house.
“Go inside.””
“Dad—”
“Go upstairs and lock your door.””
He looked startled.
“You believe me?””
“I believe something is wrong.””
“That isn't the same thing.””
“No,” I said.
“It isn't.””
He nodded and walked inside.
I waited until I saw his bedroom light come on.
Then I went into the house.
Monique was standing in the kitchen.
She had changed into pajamas.
Her arms were folded.
“You were outside with him.””
“Yes.””
“What did he tell you?””
“About the cameras.””
Her expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“You went through those recordings?””
“Some of them.””
“You had no right.””
“They're inside my house.””
“Our house.””
“Then you shouldn't be worried about what they show.””
Monique's eyes hardened.
“This is exactly what I mean.””
“What?””
“You've decided he's innocent.””
“No. I decided I need evidence.””
“You're obsessed with proving me wrong.””
“I am trying to understand why you want him out of the house so urgently.””
She stared at me.
“Because Kayla is scared.””
“Then why is she smiling in those videos?””
Silence.
I watched Monique carefully.
Her face didn't move.
But her fingers did.
She started rubbing her wedding ring with her thumb.
A habit I'd seen hundreds of times.
She did it whenever she was nervous.
“You shouldn't be watching your daughter like she's a suspect,” she said.
“I'm not.””
“Then stop.””
“Give me one reason.””
“Because she's a young woman who says she doesn't feel safe.””
“And I'm her stepfather.””
She stepped closer.
“You think I'm lying?””
“I think somebody isn't telling me everything.””
She took a breath.
Then another.
“You're destroying this family.””
I shook my head.
“No. Whoever caused this is doing that.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Jamal is dangerous.””
“What has he actually done?””
“He watches her.””
“The camera shows the opposite.””
“You think a camera tells you everything?””
“No.””
I looked at her.
“But it can tell me what happened at 2:17 this morning.””
She went still.
I noticed.
“Why that time?”” I asked.
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
I pulled out my phone and opened the clip Jamal had shown me.
Kayla appeared on the screen.
Monique watched.
Her face slowly drained of color.
Then, unexpectedly, she reached for my phone.
I pulled it away.
“Why did you want that?””
“I didn't.””
“You did.””
She stared at me.
“Give me the phone.””
“No.””
“Please.””
The desperation in her voice was so unlike her that it unsettled me.
I locked the screen.
“I'm checking every recording from the last thirty days.””
She stepped backward.
“Don't.””
That single word stopped me.
“Why?””
She said nothing.
I waited.
Finally she whispered, “Because you'll misunderstand.””
“Then explain it.””
She looked toward the staircase.
Then back at me.
“Not here.””
“Then where?””
She opened her mouth.
Before she could answer, a sound came from upstairs.
A door.
Opening.
We both looked up.
Footsteps moved slowly across the hallway.
Then Kayla's voice floated down.
“Mom?””
Monique went pale.
“Yes?””
“I need to talk to you.””
Kayla paused.
“Alone.””
Monique looked at me.
For the first time since this started, she looked frightened.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Frightened.
She walked toward the stairs.
Then stopped.
She turned around.
“Don't watch anything else tonight.””
I didn't answer.
She went upstairs.
I stood alone in the kitchen.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new security alert.
Someone had remotely accessed the camera system.
I opened the notification.
The person who logged in had used Monique's account.
And the access point was not inside our house.
May you like
It was coming from an address I knew.
An address tied to someone I hadn't spoken to in seven years.
