Lydia’s instincts told her something was wrong, but her husband insisted she was exaggerating. Then the phone rang. Her daughter’s whisper sent a chill down her spine: “Mom, I just saw a camera in the room.” At that moment, Lydia knew her instincts had been right all along.
The clock on the kitchen wall seemed to be ticking louder than usual, each second stretching longer than it should.
Lydia sat stiffly at the table, arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping an anxious rhythm on the cool tiled floor.
The glow of the oven cast flickering shadows along the walls, the smell of roast chicken filled the air, but she had no appetite.
Across the kitchen, Marc stood at the counter, humming a tune under his breath as he chopped vegetables.
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His movements were slow, relaxed, his shoulders loose, as if nothing in the world could disturb his peace.
Lydia exhaled sharply. “I can’t do this,” she muttered, her voice thick with tension.
She stepped back from the table, standing up so quickly that the chair scraped against the tile.
“I’ll go get her.”
Mark didn’t even pause in his cutting. “Lyd, come on.” His tone was light, as if she was being ridiculous. “It’s just a sleepover.”
She turned to face him fully, her eyes dark with worry. “Her first sleepover. At Kara’s.”
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She grabbed her car keys from the table, gripping them so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“I never trusted that woman. Even in high school, she was always picking on me.”
Mark finally looked up, sighing as he put down the knife. His face was patient, almost amused.
“That was twenty years ago. People change. You think too much.”
Lydia shook her head. “I don’t care. I have a bad feeling about this.”
Mark wiped his hands on a cloth before taking a step toward her. He placed a warm, reassuring hand on her arm, his touch intended to be soothing.
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“She’s fine. You need to give her some independence,” he said softly. His voice softened, as it always did when he wanted her to calm down. “Trust her, Lydia.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to breathe deeply. Maybe she was being irrational.
Maybe Mark was right. Ellie was just a child, but she wasn’t defenseless. She needed to let go a little.
“Maybe you’re right…” she admitted, though the words tasted bad.
Then his phone rang.
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The high-pitched sound cut through the room like a blade. Lydia snatched the phone off the counter without thinking, barely glancing at the screen before answering.
“Darling ?”
For a second, there was only silence. Then, a small, trembling whisper:
“Mom.”
Lydia’s hand tightened around the phone. “Ellie?”
Her daughter’s voice trembles. “I just saw a camera in the room.”
Lydia’s breath caught in her throat.
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“What?” she said, her voice suddenly sharp.
“A camera,” Ellie repeated, more quietly this time. “It was around the corner. I saw a small red light. I don’t think it’s supposed to be there.”
The blood drained from Lydia’s face. The bad feeling in her gut solidified into something cold and real.
“I’m coming,” she said immediately, her voice firm. She was already grabbing her coat and heading for the door.
“Stay where you are. I’m coming.”
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Lydia banged on the door so hard her knuckles stung, but she didn’t care. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her breathing short and shallow.
She could barely think beyond the single thought that kept repeating itself in her mind: Ellie was here.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally opened. Kara stood there, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched, a smile already curling her lips.
It wasn’t a welcoming smile—it was the kind of smile people use when they’re trying to hide something.
“Oh, Lydia,” Kara said softly, leaning against the doorframe. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
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Lydia didn’t waste a second. She walked past Kara without a word, leaving a trail of lavender and a hint of artificiality—like a luxurious hairspray—that filled Kara’s nostrils the moment she brushed past her.
“Ellie?” Lydia called, her voice tight.
Before she could take another step, Ellie came running up. She collided with Lydia’s chest so fast that she stumbled slightly, but she didn’t care.
She wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her tight, feeling the wild beating of Ellie’s little heart against hers.
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The familiar scent of strawberry shampoo filled Lydia’s nose, bringing her back to reality for a second.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, pulling back just enough to scan Ellie’s face. She cupped her daughter’s cheeks in her hands, looking for any sign of fear or distress.
Ellie nodded quickly, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Lydia’s hands tightened around Ellie’s arms. “It’s okay. You did the right thing.”
Then Lydia turned—slowly, deliberately—to face Kara. Her body was stiff with barely contained rage. “She found a camera in the bedroom.”
Kara didn’t flinch. Her expression didn’t change at all, as if she’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times.
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“It was off,” she said with a small shrug, crossing her arms.
“I put it there because anyone could come through that window. It’s for my daughter’s safety.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes, her fingers twitching, consumed by the urge to grab something—anything—and throw it with all her anger.
“So why did Ellie see a red light?” she asked through gritted teeth. “If it was off, why was it on?”
Kara hesitated for the first time. Only a fraction of a second, but enough for Lydia to notice.
“That camera should never have been turned on,” Lydia continued, taking a step forward. Her voice, now high-pitched, vibrated with suppressed fury on the verge of exploding.
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“And I don’t care about your excuses. I want the images deleted – now.”
Kara sighed dramatically, rubbing her temples as if this was all just a big inconvenience.
“All right,” she said, saying the word as if mocking a child. “I’ll erase it. But Lydia, you’re getting paranoid.”
Lydia ignored her. She reached out, grabbed Ellie’s hand, and squeezed it tightly.
“We’re leaving,” she said, her voice firm. “And she’ll never come back here.”
Ellie clung to her side as they rushed out, her little fingers clutching Lydia’s like a lifeline.
Kara didn’t say another word, but Lydia could feel her gaze burning into her back.
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The drive home was filled with thick silence, a silence that filled every inch of space, weighing like a heavy weight.
The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the rhythmic swing of the wipers against the window.
Lydia gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned pale.
Her jaw locked, and her breath came in sharp, measured gasps as she tried to contain the fury boiling inside her.
She kept her eyes fixed on the road, but her mind raced, replaying every second of what had just happened.
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It was then that Mark spoke, his voice low and hesitant. “Lydia, don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”
She tilted her head toward him, her icy gaze sharp as a blade. “Am I exaggerating?” Her voice was sharp, incredulous.
“There was a camera in the room where our daughter was sleeping!”
Mark exhaled, rubbing his temple. “But why was she there?” he retorted. “To protect the girls. Not to spy on them. You act like Kara has some creepy reason for that.”
Lydia let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Are you defending her?”
Mark shifted in his seat. “I’m saying maybe she was right.”
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That’s all there is to it. Lydia let out a sharp scoff. “You’ve always taken his side, haven’t you? Even in high school.”
Mark groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Lydia. That was years ago.”
She clenched her jaw and gripped the steering wheel harder. “And now you’re defending her again, instead of supporting your own wife.”
Mark didn’t answer.
The silence stretched between them throughout the journey, dense and unwavering.
The next morning, Lydia stood by the kitchen counter, her arms closed around a long-chilled cup of coffee.
She barely noticed his bitterness, her mind still clouded by the turmoil of the previous night.
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She had barely slept: every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ellie’s terrified face again and heard Kara’s condescending voice echoing in her head.
Across the room, Mark grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door.
Lydia set down her cup, making a soft clink. “Where are you going?” she asked, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on him.
Mark slowed his movements, pausing briefly before answering. “Business meeting.” His voice was meant to be casual—too casual—and he carefully avoided meeting her gaze.
A cold feeling crept up in his stomach, his insides knotting. “You said you didn’t have anything planned today.”
Mark hesitated for a moment, just long enough to be noticeable, before shrugging and exhaling slowly. “Something unexpected came up.”
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Lydia stared at him, studying the tension in his shoulders, the way he avoided her gaze. His fingers curled into his palms.
Without another word, Mark opened the door and stepped out. The second she heard his car drive away, she moved.
Heart pounding, she rushed into her office, her hands shaking as she opened her laptop. The screen glowed in the dim morning light. She brought up her email and scanned it quickly.
Then she saw him.
His breath caught.
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A message from Kara.
“Hey, I looked at the camera footage before I deleted it. There’s something you need to see. It’s about Lydia and Ellie. Come by today before I delete it.”
Lydia’s hands were shaking.
His pulse was racing.
She grabbed her keys and rushed to the door.
Lydia didn’t knock. She didn’t hesitate. She pushed the door so hard that it slammed against the wall, rattling the pictures hanging in the hallway.
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His heart was pounding against his ribs. His breathing was rapid and shallow, his body tense, ready for battle.
As soon as she entered the living room, she saw them.
Mark stood frozen in front of the sofa, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen of the laptop on the coffee table. His face was pale, his jaw clenched. He didn’t even look up when Lydia walked in.
Kara, for her part, looked up. She was standing beside him, arms crossed, lips curled into a smug, knowing smile.
Lydia’s stomach tightened.
Something was seriously wrong.
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“What is it?” Lydia asked, her voice as sharp as a blade.
Mark didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned down, grabbed the laptop, and slowly swiveled the screen toward her.
Lydia’s breath caught.
On the screen, Ellie appeared, sitting cross-legged on Kara’s daughter’s bed, her small hands delicately placed on her knees. Her voice, soft but clear, resonated.
“Sometimes I don’t like being at home. Mom is always angry. It’s better here.”
The words hit Lydia like a slap.
She took a step back. “That’s not true. That’s not…”
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Kara let out a slow sigh of satisfaction and shook her head. “Well,” she said softly, “that’s your daughter saying so.”
Tears burned in the corners of Lydia’s eyes.
How is this possible?
Ellie would never have said that. Not of her own free will. Unless…
It was then that a small voice pierced the thick silence.
“It’s not real.”
All three turned around.
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Kara’s daughter, Emma, stood in the doorway, clutching a teddy bear to her chest. Her face was pale, her lower lip trembling.
Mark frowned. “What do you mean?”
Emma hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. Her gaze shifted from her mother to Lydia and Mark, while her fingers tightened around the teddy bear’s soft fur.
“It was just a game,” she whispered. “I dared Ellie to say it. Mom told us to play that.”
Lydia felt her stomach tighten painfully.
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Kara stiffened beside Mark. “Emma, go to your room,” she said, her voice sharp and controlled.
Mark slowly turned to Kara, his expression darkening. “Did you set this up?” His voice was calm, but there was a hint of barely contained anger.
Kara swallowed hard. “I-“
Mark’s eyes narrowed. He took a step toward her, his shoulders square. “You’re still on the ball, aren’t you? After all these years…”
Kara’s composure cracked. Her face twisted into something wild, something ugly.
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“She’s not good enough for you, Mark, and you know it!” she spat. Her voice rose, sharp and desperate. “I’m better. I always have been better!”
Silence.
Lydia felt something inside her break. The last shred of doubt, the last shred of hesitation—gone.
Mark didn’t say another word. He reached down, slammed the laptop shut with a force that made Kara flinch, then turned to Lydia.
“Let’s go.”
Lydia didn’t turn around.
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As they walked through the door, she could still hear Kara breathing heavily behind them, but she didn’t care.
She simply squeezed Ellie’s hand tighter, as if to anchor them both to something real. Something safe.
The drive home was calm. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving only exhaustion.
After a long moment of silence, Mark exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
Lydia glanced at her, then reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Me too.”
And for the first time in a long time, there was no doubt about where they stood – together.
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