Chapter 7 - THE CAMERA IN THE LIBRARY
Nobody touched the camera until a security technician arrived.
Leah insisted.
Richard wanted to rip it out of the wall with his bare hands.
Margaret wanted to call Kevin and ask him what kind of son watched his pregnant wife through a hidden feed.
I wanted to throw up.
Instead, we waited.
That was becoming my new skill.
Not passive waiting.
Strategic waiting.
There is a difference.
The technician arrived with a laptop and a small ladder. His name was Aaron, and his expression went from professional neutrality to alarm within three minutes.
“This camera is active,” he said.
Richard’s face hardened.
“Through what account?”
Aaron typed.
“Legacy administrator profile.”
“Name?”
He hesitated.
“K. Prescott.”
Margaret sat down.
Leah stepped in immediately.
“Do not log him out yet. Preserve access records first.”
Aaron nodded.
“I can export connection logs.”
“Do it.”
I stood by the window while he worked.
The lake was silver beneath the rain.
Christmas lights still glowed along the terrace even though the holiday had begun to feel like something that happened to other families.
“Emily,” Leah said quietly.
I turned.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
I almost smiled.
“What can he see?” I asked Aaron.
“Only the library from this camera. But the legacy account shows three devices.”
Richard went still.
“Three?”
Aaron pulled up a map.
“Library. Front hall. Garage.”
Margaret looked toward the kitchen entrance.
“The front hall camera was removed during renovation.”
“Physically?”
“I thought so.”
It was still there, hidden behind a decorative vent.
The garage camera had been disguised inside an old motion sensor.
All three streamed to a cloud account Kevin could access remotely.
He had not only known Sabrina visited.
He could have watched me arrive.
He could have watched Margaret hug me at the door.
He could have watched Richard carry the envelope into the library.
He could have seen every photograph we spread across the table.
My skin crawled.
“Was there audio?” Leah asked.
Aaron checked.
“The library unit has a microphone.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
So Kevin had heard everything.
My confrontation with Sabrina.
The audit discussion.
My plan to divorce him.
Maybe not the legal filing itself, because we signed in the kitchen.
But enough.
Richard stepped into the hallway and called corporate security.
Leah stopped him.
“Tell them only that you discovered unauthorized access to your residence. Do not speculate about Kevin over the phone.”
He nodded.
I watched two powerful people obey my lawyer.
That helped.
Then my phone buzzed.
Kevin.
A new number.
Nice show.
I stared at the message.
Then another came.
You think my parents are going to choose you over their son?
A third.
You have no idea what you’re doing.
I handed the phone to Leah.
She photographed the messages and told me not to answer.
Margaret read them over her shoulder.
“He sounds like a stranger.”
I looked at her.
“He isn’t.”
That truth hurt us both.
Later, Aaron found login records showing remote access from Kevin’s phone, his laptop, and—twice—from Mia’s tablet.
Margaret closed her eyes.
“She knew about the cameras too.”
“Maybe,” Leah said. “Access does not tell us intent. We don’t guess.”
Margaret sighed.
“You and Richard really are the same person.”
“We’ve established that.”
By evening, the cameras were isolated but not destroyed. Copies of the access logs went to Leah, the security company, and Richard’s independent counsel.
Kevin’s account was finally disabled.
The house felt different afterward.
Safer.
Also violated.
I kept looking at vents.
Corners.
Smoke detectors.
At dinner, I barely ate.
Margaret noticed.
“You need calories.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
“Because you’re feeding two people.”
“I know.”
She pushed mashed potatoes closer.
“I’m sorry.”
“For the food?”
“For every time I watched Kevin speak over you and told myself it was just his personality.”
I looked down.
“You saw it?”
“Yes.”
The confession made my chest ache.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you smiled.”
I almost laughed.
“That was survival.”
“I know that now.”
Richard spoke from the other end of the table.
“We all liked your smile because it made us comfortable.”
Nobody answered.
He continued.
“When Kevin criticized you at dinner, you redirected the conversation. When Mia made jokes, you laughed. We treated your grace like proof nothing was wrong.”
My eyes burned.
“I thought if I stayed calm, they’d eventually respect me.”
Margaret’s voice broke slightly.
“They should have respected you before you proved anything.”
I needed to hear that more than I expected.
After dinner, Leah called.
“The divorce petition is filed.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Okay.”
“I also drafted a request regarding marital assets. Given the transfers, we’re asking the court to prevent unusual movement of joint funds until accounting is complete.”
“Will Kevin know?”
“After service.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow evening, if the train stays on schedule.”
I looked at the clock.
Twenty hours.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. I need you to decide where you’re living.”
“Our apartment is in Chicago.”
“I know. Do you want to return?”
The question surprised me.
Everything I owned was there.
My books.
The crib.
The yellow curtains I had sewn badly and hung anyway.
But suddenly the apartment felt like a room in a museum dedicated to someone I used to be.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s allowed.”
“Can I stay here temporarily?”
“Legally, that’s between you and the Prescotts. Practically, I’d prefer you not be alone until we understand whether Kevin’s behavior escalates.”
“Escalates?”
“The hidden camera concerns me.”
I put my hand over the baby.
“Do you think he’d hurt me?”
“I don’t know. I don’t guess about safety.”
There it was again.
Facts first.
Fear second.
I called Nora afterward.
She had more news.
“Mia got off the train in Spokane.”
“What?”
“Public transit camera caught her leaving the station with luggage.”
“Why Spokane?”
“Airport.”
My pulse jumped.
“She’s flying here.”
“Probably.”
“Does Kevin know?”
“I don’t know.”
An hour later, Margaret’s phone rang.
Mia.
She answered.
This time, she put it on speaker before anyone asked.
“Mom?” Mia was crying.
“Where are you?”
“Spokane airport.”
“Why?”
“I’m coming home.”
“Why?”
“Because Kevin scared me.”
The room changed.
Margaret’s voice softened by a fraction.
“What did he do?”
“He took my phone. He said if I told you anything, he’d make sure Dad knew about the invoices.”
Richard leaned forward.
“What invoices?”
Mia heard him.
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Mia whispered, “I need a lawyer.”
May you like
Richard closed his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “You do.”
