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Chapter 12 - The Blinking Red Light

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Graham’s panicked eyes darted around the dining room, desperately searching for an explanation. Then, his gaze moved past me and locked onto the antique table beside the fireplace.

He stared directly at the heavy brass lamp. The very same lamp that Constance had openly mocked earlier that week because it was “far too old-fashioned and hideous” for her perfectly curated dining room.

From the base of the lamp, a tiny, brilliant red light blinked again.

Graham’s mouth fell open. He pointed a trembling finger at the table.

“What is that?” he whispered, sheer terror lacing his words.

Constance followed his gaze. Her expression shifted rapidly from confusion to absolute, unbridled horror. She realized her fatal mistake in an instant.

She lunged toward the table with surprising speed, grabbed the heavy brass lamp by its neck, and hurled it violently against the hardwood floor. The decorative glass shade broke into a dozen pieces. The bulb shattered with a loud pop. The brass body rolled over once before coming to a dead stop right beside my outstretched hand.

But the tiny, high-definition camera lens embedded in the metal was still facing upward.

Still recording. Still transmitting every single second of their panic to the cloud.

Constance stared at the broken lamp, her chest heaving.

Then, another red light blinked ominously from the smoke detector mounted directly above the dining table.

Another tiny red flash came from the face of the antique clock in the hallway.

And another from the thick wooden frame of our wedding photograph resting on the mantel.

Graham turned slowly, mechanically, to look down at me. His breathing became ragged, bordering on hyperventilation.

“You recorded us,” he said, his voice completely hollow.

May you like

I could not speak to confirm it. My lips were blue. But I looked right into his eyes.

And he finally understood. He understood that the woman he had spent months dismissing, gaslighting, isolating, and preparing to erase had never been the helpless victim he believed her to be.

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