Chapter 3: The Person Behind The Eyes
The police investigation changed the atmosphere of my home overnight.
The house that was supposed to be Emma’s safe place suddenly felt like a place full of secrets.
Detective Harris sat across from me at the kitchen table while Emma colored beside me.
He placed several photographs on the table.
Pictures of the hidden cameras.
Pictures of where they were found.
“The installation was professional,” he said.
I looked at him.
“Meaning?””
“Meaning whoever did this knew what they were doing.””
I clenched my hands.
“Can you trace them?””
“We’re trying.””
Emma looked up from her coloring book.
“Are you going to catch the bad person?””
The detective’s expression softened.
“We’re going to find out what happened.””
Emma nodded.
Then she returned to her drawing.
I looked down.
She had drawn our family.
Me.
Her.
Her mother.
And a black figure standing far away.
I felt a knot form in my stomach.
“Emma.””
She looked up.
“Who is that?””
She covered the drawing quickly.
“Nobody.””
I gently moved the paper.
“Sweetheart.””
Her eyes filled with fear.
“Don’t tell.””
“Tell me what?””
She looked toward the hallway.
Then whispered:
“He said not to.””
Every muscle in my body went tense.
“Who said that?””
Emma squeezed Bunny.
“The person who watches.””
The room became silent.
Detective Harris leaned forward.
“Emma, did you see this person?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
“Did they talk to you?””
Another small nod.
My heart broke.
“When?””
Emma looked down.
“Before Vanessa.””
I stared at her.
“What do you mean?””
She swallowed.
“Before Vanessa came here.””
The detective and I exchanged a look.
I felt like the floor had disappeared beneath me.
Because that meant something impossible.
The cameras were not Vanessa’s idea.
Someone had been watching my daughter before my wife ever entered our lives.
After Detective Harris left, I sat beside Emma on the couch.
I didn’t want to scare her.
I didn’t want to ask too many questions.
But I needed answers.
“Emma, do you remember when the cameras appeared?””
She hugged Bunny.
“After Mommy went away.””
My breath caught.
Her mother had died almost two years earlier.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
She looked confused.
“Because I thought you knew.””
Those words hurt.
More than I expected.
“Why would you think Daddy knew?””
“Because someone told me.””
“Who?””
Emma pointed toward the hallway.
“Mommy.””
I froze.
Then immediately shook my head.
“No, sweetheart. Mommy loved you. She wouldn’t want you to be scared.””
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
“I know.””
She whispered.
“But she didn’t say it.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“The person used Mommy’s voice.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
Someone had been manipulating my daughter.
Someone had been using her grief against her.
That night, after Emma fell asleep, I searched through old records.
Photos.
Messages.
Anything connected to the months after my first wife’s death.
Then I found something strange.
A message from an unknown number.
Two years earlier.
Three weeks after the funeral.
The message had only one sentence.
*You don’t know what happened in your own house.*
I stared at the screen.
I had ignored it at the time.
I thought it was a cruel joke.
But now I wasn’t sure.
I searched the number.
Nothing.
Deleted.
Unknown.
Then another message appeared.
Not from the same number.
A new one.
My phone vibrated.
I looked down.
My blood turned cold.
*You should have listened when she tried to tell you.*
I immediately stood up.
I checked the doors.
Locked.
Windows.
Locked.
Emma’s room.
Empty.
My heart stopped.
“Emma?””
No answer.
I ran upstairs.
Her bedroom door was open.
The lights were off.
And sitting on her bed was Bunny.
But Emma was gone.
I turned around desperately.
Then I saw a small piece of paper on the floor.
A note written in childish handwriting.
Three words.
*I found Mommy.*
And underneath it was a name.
May you like
A name I had not seen in almost two years.
The name of the person I thought was gone forever.
