Chapter 2 - The Nursery DoorMichael reached the house in seventeen minutes.
He had never driven that fast.
The Bennett estate sat at the end of a quiet private road, surrounded by old oak trees and a stone wall his grandfather had built decades earlier.
Usually, arriving home felt like crossing into a safe place.
That night, the house looked different.
Every window was dark.
Except the nursery.
A faint yellow light glowed behind the curtains.
Michael killed the engine.
He ran inside.
"Olivia!"
Nothing.
The kitchen was empty.
The living room was empty.
Then he heard Ethan crying upstairs.
Michael took the stairs two at a time.
The nursery door was locked.
He stopped.
"Olivia?"
Her voice came from inside.
"Michael?"
"It's me. Open the door."
There was a pause.
Then the lock clicked.
Olivia stood there holding Ethan.
Her face was pale.
Her hair was disheveled.
Her wrist was red.
Michael looked at it.
She pulled her sleeve over the mark.
"Where's my mother?"
Olivia stared at him.
"She left."
"When?"
"I don't know."
Michael looked around the room.
The baby monitor was still on the dresser.
But its screen was black.
"Why did she turn this off?"
Olivia's eyes filled with confusion.
"She said you weren't supposed to be watching."
Michael's stomach dropped.
"She knew."
Olivia didn't answer.
He stepped closer.
"Mom told me you were hurting Ethan."
Olivia let out a bitter laugh that immediately turned into a sob.
"You believe her?"
Michael said nothing.
That silence hurt her more than any accusation.
She looked down at Ethan.
"That's what she's been doing."
"What?"
"Making you believe I'm dangerous."
Michael stared at her.
"Why would she do that?"
"I don't know."
"You do."
Olivia looked toward the nursery door.
"I think your mother wants Ethan."
Michael shook his head.
"That's insane."
"I said the same thing three weeks ago."
"What happened three weeks ago?"
Olivia hesitated.
Then she walked to the crib.
She pulled up the mattress.
Michael stared.
Underneath it was a small white envelope.
She handed it to him.
Inside was a photograph.
An old one.
Michael recognized his father immediately.
He was standing outside this very house.
Beside him was Evelyn.
And a woman Michael had never seen before.
A young woman holding a newborn baby.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten date.
December 14, 1998.
Michael frowned.
"Who is she?"
Olivia whispered.
"That's what your mother doesn't want you to know."
Before Michael could respond, footsteps sounded downstairs.
Slow.
Measured.
Someone had entered the house.
Michael motioned for Olivia to stay upstairs.
He stepped into the hallway.
"Mom?"
No answer.
Then the front door slammed.
Michael moved toward the stairs.
Evelyn appeared at the bottom.
She looked perfectly calm.
She held something in one hand.
A small black device.
Michael recognized it.
A second baby monitor camera.
His blood turned cold.
"You shouldn't have come home," Evelyn said.
Michael looked at the device.
"Why?"
His mother smiled.
"Because now you're going to see things you can't unsee."
Then she lifted the camera.
And Michael noticed a blinking red light.
Recording.
Not the nursery.
The hallway.
May you like
His hallway.
Their entire house had cameras.
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