There were absolutely no cameras in bedrooms or bathrooms.

But the system covered enough of the property to show me what happened inside my home when everyone believed I was thousands of miles away.

Hector and I entered the secure monitoring room hidden behind the garage.

He locked the heavy door behind us.

A wall of monitors glowed in front of me.

“Audio is active in every common area, Mr. Vance,” Hector said quietly.

I sat down.

“I want to see what happens in this house when everyone believes I’m gone.”

For the first fifteen minutes, I felt ridiculous.

Marisol cleaned the marble kitchen counters.

My daughters sat at the dining table finishing breakfast.

Outside, the landscaper worked near the pool.

Nothing suspicious happened.

Nothing even remotely unusual.

I was beginning to think Chloe’s warnings had gotten inside my head.

I almost stood up and ended the entire experiment.

Then Chloe entered the main living room.

And within seconds, I realized I had been watching the wrong person.

The woman on the screen barely resembled the elegant, soft-spoken fiancée I thought I knew.

Her posture changed.

Her pleasant expression disappeared.

Her face hardened.

Valeria was sitting quietly on the rug beside the fireplace reading a book.

Sofia sat nearby holding an old stuffed rabbit.

That rabbit mattered.

It was one of the last gifts their mother had given Sofia before she passed away.

Chloe marched toward them, her heels striking sharply against the hardwood floor.

“How many times do I have to tell you two that I don’t want you sitting around in the main living room?”

Both girls reacted instantly.

That reaction was what frightened me first.

They didn’t look surprised.

They looked familiar with it.

Valeria immediately closed her book.

Sofia lowered her head.

There was no confusion in either of their faces.

Only recognition.

As though they already knew exactly what happened when Chloe used that voice.

Then Chloe reached down and took the stuffed rabbit from Sofia’s hands.

She placed it on a shelf far above my daughter’s reach.

“I’m tired of repeating myself,” she said. “When your father isn’t home, I make the rules here.”

I stared at the monitor.

Sofia’s lower lip began trembling.

Valeria moved closer to her sister.

Almost instinctively, she positioned herself slightly in front of Sofia.

Then Marisol entered the room.

She didn’t yell.

She didn’t confront Chloe aggressively.

She simply walked over and stood between Chloe and my daughters.

“Miss Chloe,” she said calmly, “the girls were only reading while they waited for their tutor.”

Chloe turned toward her.

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then remember your place.”

Chloe stepped closer.

“You work here.”

Her voice became colder.

“You are not family. You are not their mother. You are nobody in this house.”

My hands tightened into fists.

On another camera angle, Valeria reached backward and took Sofia’s hand.

Neither girl looked at the other.

They didn’t need to.

It was automatic.

Practiced.