Leaving The Repairman And My Wife Alone Was The Most Regretful Decision I Have Ever Made-5
Professional Facade
Fingerprint unlock. The interface loaded. I selected the living room camera—the angle partially covered the kitchen entrance. The feed was clear. On screen, a man in dark blue work pants and a grey t-shirt stood with his back to the lens, bent over the sink. A drop cloth covered the floor, tools laid out nearby. Only his back and hunched posture were visible. Emma wasn’t in frame. Things seemed normal. He worked efficiently, clearly focused. Probably Emma’s in the bedroom or the other side of the living room, I reassured myself.
A Creeping Unease
I locked the screen, chiding my own paranoia.The meeting dragged on. Anna finished. The manager solicited opinions. Tom spoke. I tried to listen, but something felt… off. The man on camera… he was too quiet. Efficient, yes, but… unnervingly light? Almost silent. And where was Emma? Even in another room, there should be some sound. The house was eerily still. The unease I’d dismissed crept back.
A Second Look
I brought the phone down again, screen lighting up instantly as I reopened the app. My fingertip was slick with sweat. Still the living room view. The man was still under the sink, but his posture had shifted. He seemed less focused on repairing, more like… inspecting? Or packing? His hand rummaged in his tool bag. My pulse quickened. Emma? Why no sound? Asleep? The thought struck like ice—sudden, sharp, ominous.
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Fingerprint unlock. The interface loaded. I selected the living room camera—the angle partially covered the kitchen entrance. The feed was clear. On screen, a man in dark blue work pants and a grey t-shirt stood with his back to the lens, bent over the sink. A drop cloth covered the floor, tools laid out nearby. Only his back and hunched posture were visible. Emma wasn’t in frame. Things seemed normal. He worked efficiently, clearly focused. Probably Emma’s in the bedroom or the other side of the living room, I reassured myself.
A Creeping Unease
I locked the screen, chiding my own paranoia.The meeting dragged on. Anna finished. The manager solicited opinions. Tom spoke. I tried to listen, but something felt… off. The man on camera… he was too quiet. Efficient, yes, but… unnervingly light? Almost silent. And where was Emma? Even in another room, there should be some sound. The house was eerily still. The unease I’d dismissed crept back.
A Second Look
I brought the phone down again, screen lighting up instantly as I reopened the app. My fingertip was slick with sweat. Still the living room view. The man was still under the sink, but his posture had shifted. He seemed less focused on repairing, more like… inspecting? Or packing? His hand rummaged in his tool bag. My pulse quickened. Emma? Why no sound? Asleep? The thought struck like ice—sudden, sharp, ominous.
NEXT >>