Chapter 3: The Cameras
Before I deployed, I noticed things.
Diane and Rachel had moved in “to help” while I was gone. At first Emma said it was fine. Then the texts changed. She stopped sending photos of herself. Only Lucas. Her messages became shorter. “We’re okay.” “Don’t worry.”
I installed three small cameras—one in the nursery, one in the living room, one above the kitchen—disguised as smoke detectors. I told Emma they were for security while I was away. She never knew I could watch live or that the footage was automatically backed up to a private server.
For eight months I watched.
I saw Diane slap Emma across the face for “letting the baby cry too long.”
I saw Rachel refuse to help when Emma was too weak to stand after a C-section.
I saw them lock Emma out of the nursery for an hour because she “disrespected” Diane by asking them to leave.
I saw Lucas left in a dirty diaper for hours while the three women argued in the kitchen about money—my money.
The fever had started two days ago. They ignored it. Diane said babies get fevers all the time.
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I documented everything. Time-stamped. Backed up. Shared with my lawyer and Marcus.
I was never coming home alone.
