Chapter 2 – The House Was Listening
The silence after his voice disappeared was somehow worse than hearing him speak.
My daughter squeezed my hand so tightly her fingernails dug into my skin.
"Mommy..."
"I know."
No.
I didn't know.
Not really.
But every instinct I had screamed the same thing.
We weren't alone.
The security panel beside the door blinked green.
Connected.
Armed.
Controlled remotely.
I backed away from the entrance.
The speaker crackled again.
"You forgot your phone."
I instinctively reached into my pocket.
Empty.
Of course.
I'd left it charging in the kitchen.
"I can see you thinking," Ethan said, almost amused.
My blood turned to ice.
See us.
Not hear.
See.
Every room.
Every hallway.
Every camera I'd insisted on installing after a string of neighborhood burglaries.
The cameras that were supposed to protect us.
He had turned them into prison guards.
"Daddy's watching," my daughter whispered.
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She swallowed.
"I heard him talking to somebody last night."
"When?"
"I couldn't sleep."
She looked toward the ceiling.
"He said... if Mommy ever finds out... don't let her leave."
The words landed like broken glass.
I suddenly remembered something.
Two months ago Ethan had insisted on replacing our entire smart-home system.
New locks.
New cameras.
New software.
He told me it was safer.
More advanced.
I never questioned why he refused to give me administrator access.
Because I trusted him.
Now that trust felt like a loaded weapon pointed directly at me.
Then every light in the hallway shut off.
Darkness swallowed half the house.
Only the emergency lights glowed red.
A mechanical voice echoed overhead.
"Security protocol activated."
My daughter began crying.
I forced myself to stay calm.
Fear spreads faster than fire.
Especially to children.
I knelt in front of her.
"Listen to me."
She nodded through tears.
"We're getting out."
"But Daddy said—"
"I don't care what Daddy said."
May you like
For the first time in six years...
I didn't call him your father.
