“I need you to see something,” she said. “Help me up.”
She shuffled toward the opposite wall and lifted the corner of a faded calendar. Her fingers pressed a particular spot.
A soft mechanical click echoed, followed by a whirring sound.
The section of wall slid sideways with a soft hiss.
Behind the cheap drywall was another room—small but high-tech, with computer monitors showing live feeds from every corner of the house.
“Come,” she said. “It’s time you saw what I’ve been watching.”
She pulled up a video file from that same morning. The living room appeared on screen. Malik sat on the couch with Mrs. Eloise, several stacks of cash on the coffee table between them.
I recognized it immediately. I had withdrawn that money two days earlier.
Malik counted the bills, grinning. “Not bad for a month of babysitting, huh?”
Eloise laughed. “You mean waiting for that stubborn old woman to finally die so we can sell this place? Maybe move to Florida.”
“She’s a tough old bird,” Malik said. “But the pills will wear her down. And our little money machine will keep sending checks as long as you keep making her feel guilty, Mom.”
He was talking about me.
Grandma clicked another file. On screen, Eloise kicked the side of Grandma’s wheelchair—hard. The chair jolted. Grandma’s frail body shook.
Eloise leaned down. “You’re a burden, you know that? You should’ve died when Earl did.”
She spat on the plate of food and shoved it toward Grandma’s mouth. “Eat. That’s all you deserve.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth.
Another video appeared—dated three days earlier. Malik stumbled in with a woman in a tight dress. Tanisha. His “distant cousin.”
They dropped onto the couch together, far too close.
“So when are you divorcing that little country mouse?” she asked. “I’m tired of sneaking around.”
“As soon as the old woman croaks,” Malik said. “Once the deed is in my name and we sell, we can get out of this dump. But until then, I need her.”
“Your wife?”
“My ATM. She’s too dumb and too loyal to leave. Once we get the house, I’ll throw her out like yesterday’s trash and marry you.”
Tanisha smirked. “Is the medicine working?”
“Oh yeah. High-dose sedatives in her tea every morning. Makes her weaker and weaker. By next week, she’ll be out of our hair.”
I didn’t even realize I was crying until tears slid off my chin.
Five years. Five years I had been married to him. Five years of funding my own destruction.
When the video ended, Grandma watched me without speaking.
“Are you done being their victim?” she asked. “Or do you still want to make excuses for them?”
Something in me broke. The tears stopped. In their place, a different feeling rose. Cold. Solid. Heavy as stone.
“No,” I said. My voice sounded strange. Steady. “I’m done.”
Grandma’s eyes gleamed. “Good. Because from this moment on, we are not prey. We are the hunters.”
I took her hand.
At that exact moment, a soft chime echoed. A small light blinked red above an intercom.
“Right on time,” she murmured, pressing a button. The smart lock clicked.
“Come with me. Our guest has arrived.”
We slipped back into the dark hallway. Outside, headlights splashed across the windows. A sleek black sedan sat in the driveway.
A man in his fifties stepped out—tall, impeccably suited, with a leather briefcase. Two bodyguards flanked him.
“Is Chairwoman Harriet Sterling Pendleton inside?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “She’s inside.”
He walked past me like he knew the layout. We led them to the control room.
