Lydia’s gut twisted with unease, but Mark, her husband, just laughed it off. “Lyd, you’re overthinking again,” he said, shaking his head as he sliced a carrot with practiced ease.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The clock on the kitchen wall seemed louder than usual, each tick stretching longer than it should. Her foot tapped anxiously against the tiled floor as she sat at the table, arms crossed, eyes darting to her phone.
Then it rang.
The shrill sound cut through the kitchen like a blade. Lydia snatched it up instantly, barely glancing at the screen before pressing it to her ear.
“Sweetheart?” she said, her voice tight.
For a second, there was only silence. Then, a small, shaky whisper.
“Mom.”
Lydia sat up straighter, her grip tightening around the phone. “Ellie? What’s wrong?”
Her daughter’s voice trembled. “I just saw a camera in the room.”
The blood drained from Lydia’s face. “What?”
“A camera. It’s in the corner. There’s a little red light. I don’t think it’s supposed to be there.”
The icy fear that had been sitting in her gut solidified into something sharp and real.
“I’m coming,” she said immediately, already pushing back from the table, reaching for her keys. “Stay where you are. Don’t say anything. Just sit tight, okay?”
Ellie’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Okay.”
Lydia ended the call and whirled around. “I told you,” she snapped at Mark, her eyes burning. “I told you something wasn’t right!”
Mark sighed, rubbing his temple. “Lydia, come on. It’s probably just—”
“I don’t care what you think it is. I’m getting my daughter.”
She stormed out before he could argue, the cold night air biting against her skin as she climbed into the car. Her hands trembled as she gripped the wheel. Her mind raced.
Kara. It had to be Kara. Lydia had never trusted that woman, not since high school. And now her daughter was in that house, with a camera watching her.
Lydia barely remembered the drive. She skidded to a stop in front of Kara’s house, leapt out of the car, and pounded on the door so hard her knuckles ached.
The door swung open a moment later, revealing Kara’s perfectly composed face, her lips curving into a smug smile.
“Oh, Lydia,” she purred, leaning against the doorframe. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
Lydia didn’t waste a second. She shoved past her, scanning the hallway. “Ellie?” she called, her voice sharp.
Before she could take another step, Ellie came running. She collided into Lydia’s chest, and Lydia wrapped her arms around her daughter, feeling the rapid pounding of her little heart.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, brushing Ellie’s hair back, searching her face.
Ellie nodded quickly, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know what to do,” she said, her voice small.
Lydia turned, her eyes locking onto Kara’s. “She found a camera in the room.”
Kara’s expression didn’t change. “It was off,” she said with a small shrug. “I put it there for security. Anyone could climb through that window.”
Lydia’s fingers twitched with anger. “Then why was the red light on?”
For the first time, Kara hesitated. It was only for a fraction of a second, but Lydia caught it.
“That camera shouldn’t have been on,” Lydia snapped. “And I don’t care about your excuses. I want the footage deleted—now.”
Kara sighed dramatically, rubbing her temple. “Fine,” she said, drawing out the word. “I’ll delete it. But Lydia, you’re being paranoid.”
Lydia ignored her. She grabbed Ellie’s hand. “We’re leaving,” she said. “And she’s never coming back here.”
The drive home was thick with silence. Lydia’s hands trembled around the wheel. Ellie sat curled in the seat beside her, her small fingers still gripping Lydia’s like a lifeline.
Then Mark spoke. “Lydia, don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
She snapped her head toward him, eyes blazing. “Overreacting?” she hissed. “There was a camera in the room where our daughter was sleeping!”
Mark sighed. “But why was it there? To protect the girls, not spy on them. Maybe Kara had a point.”
Lydia let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You’re defending her?”
Mark hesitated. “I just think—”
“You always took her side,” Lydia said, her voice low. “Even in high school.”
Mark groaned, rubbing his temple. “That was years ago.”
Lydia clenched her jaw. “And now you’re doing it again.”
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
The next morning, Lydia stood by the kitchen counter, staring at her cold coffee. She had barely slept. Across the room, Mark grabbed his jacket.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He hesitated. “Work meeting.”
Lydia frowned. “You said you had no plans today.”
Mark hesitated again. “Something came up.”
As soon as he left, Lydia rushed to his office. Her hands shook as she opened his laptop. Scanning quickly, her heart stopped at an email from Kara.
“Hey, I reviewed the camera footage before deleting it. There’s something you need to see. It’s about Lydia and Ellie. Come by today before I erase it.”
Lydia’s pulse roared. She grabbed her keys and bolted out the door.
When she arrived, Kara and Mark were standing in front of the couch, a laptop screen glowing between them. Lydia didn’t hesitate. She stormed inside. “What is this?”
Mark turned the screen toward her.
On the screen, Ellie sat cross-legged on the bed, her small hands clasped in her lap. Her voice was soft but clear.
“Sometimes I don’t like being at home. Mom is always mad. It’s better here.”
The words hit Lydia like a punch to the gut.
Kara sighed, shaking her head. “Well, that’s your daughter saying it.”
Then a small voice cut through the room. “That’s not real.”
Everyone turned. Emma, Kara’s daughter, clutched a stuffed bear, her lower lip trembling. “It was just a game. I dared Ellie to say it. Mom told us to play it.”
Lydia’s stomach dropped.
Kara stiffened. “Emma, go to your room.”
Mark turned to Kara, his expression dark. “You set this up?”
Kara swallowed. “I—”
Mark took a step forward. “You’re still on it, aren’t you? After all these years.”
Kara’s face twisted. “She is not good enough for you, Mark!” she spat. “I’ve always been better!”
Silence. Then Mark slammed the laptop shut. He turned to Lydia. “Let’s go.”
They walked out without looking back. Lydia held Ellie’s hand tighter, anchoring them to something real. Something safe.
As they drove home, Mark exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
Lydia reached over and squeezed his hand. “Me too.”
For the first time in a long time, she knew exactly where they stood—together.
