Chapter 18 - The Camera
I considered taking the camera down.
For weeks I could not decide.
It had saved me.
It had also become a symbol of the worst night in the house.
Finally, I called the security company.
"Can you replace it with a newer visible model?"
The technician asked why visible.
"Because I don't want hidden safety."
He installed a small camera with a clear status light.
Green when recording.
Everyone could see it.
I changed the security policy too.
No private-room cameras.
No secret access.
Two-factor authentication.
Logs sent to my phone and Jenna's backup account.
Control shared carefully.
Not surrendered.
Months later, Jenna hosted Thanksgiving at my house.
Twelve people filled the kitchen.
Someone dropped a serving spoon.
Someone burned rolls.
My nephew hit the alarm by accident and nearly caused a family evacuation.
We laughed until I cried.
Then Jenna looked at me.
"Good cry?"
"Yeah."
For a long time I thought healing would feel dramatic.
It did not.
It felt like noise in a kitchen without fear.
It felt like disagreeing with someone and not measuring the nearest exit.
It felt like seeing a metal broom handle in a hardware store and continuing down the aisle.
Then Rachel arrived late with pie.
"You invited your attorney to Thanksgiving?" Jenna asked.
"She brings evidence."
Rachel lifted the pie.
"Exhibit A."
We laughed.
After dinner, she handed me an envelope.
Final recovery statement from the receiver.
My mother's trust had been paid its proper share from the restructured land sale.
Not the discounted price Ryan tried to force.
The number was almost double.
May you like
I stared.
Mom's investment had survived them too.
