Chapter 3 - The Hidden Cameras
The headlights of my car swept across the driveway as I pulled in behind Brooke’s Volvo.
I turned off the engine and sat in the darkness for several minutes, preparing my mind for the performance ahead.
I had to act like the broken, submissive wife they completely expected me to be.
I unlocked the front door and stepped into the grand foyer of my own home.
The house smelled strongly of Brooke’s expensive vanilla perfume.
Gavin walked out of the kitchen holding a glass of red wine, wearing a casual sweater as if this were a normal Tuesday night.
“Audrey,” he said, feigning a look of deep, sorrowful guilt.
“Brooke was just discharged from the hospital, and she needed a comfortable place to rest with the baby.”
I looked past him and saw my sister sitting on my expensive velvet sofa, holding her newborn son.
She was wearing my favorite silk robe.
“I understand,” I lied smoothly, keeping my voice soft and defeated.
Gavin blinked, clearly shocked that I was not screaming or throwing his belongings onto the front lawn.
“You understand?” he asked cautiously.
“I am just so tired, Gavin,” I whispered, looking down at my shoes to hide the burning rage in my eyes.
“We can discuss the future later, but right now, I just want to go upstairs and sleep.”
Brooke smiled triumphantly from the sofa, clearly believing she had completely broken my spirit.
“Thank you for being so reasonable, Audrey,” my sister mocked gently.
I walked past them without another word and climbed the long oak staircase to the master bedroom.
When I closed the bedroom door behind me, I finally allowed myself to drop the pathetic facade.
I walked toward my bedside table to plug in my phone, but something strange caught my attention.
The small decorative clock on my nightstand had been moved a few inches to the left.
I picked it up and examined the dark plastic backing under the glow of my reading lamp.
A tiny, perfectly concealed camera lens was embedded directly into the digital display.
My heart skipped a beat as I carefully set the clock back down in its exact original position.
I began to silently search the rest of the bedroom without making any sudden movements.
I found a second hidden camera tucked behind the mirror on my vanity table.
I found a third camera disguised as a smoke detector on the ceiling above the closet.
Gavin had rigged my most private sanctuary with surveillance equipment while I was at the hospital.
He was desperately hoping to record me having a violent mental breakdown or a hysterical fit of rage.
He needed video evidence of my instability to justify the fraudulent trust documents if I ever tried to challenge them in court.
I realized I was standing on a highly dangerous stage, and my husband was the malicious director.
I walked over to the bed, sat down gracefully, and buried my face in my hands.
I forced myself to produce loud, theatrical sobs for the hidden microphones to capture.
I rocked back and forth, playing the role of the shattered, heartbroken woman to absolute perfection.
But behind my covered hands, a wide, terrifying smile spread across my face.
If Gavin wanted a carefully scripted reality show, I was going to give him an award-winning performance.
Before I finally went to sleep, I pulled back the sleeve of my sweater to look at my grandmother’s bracelet.
May you like
The engraving of First Star gleamed brightly in the dim light of the bedroom.
Tomorrow, I needed to uncover exactly what my grandmother had known before she died.
