Mrs. Kline’s comment clung to Julie all day, quiet but relentless. It wasn’t even said with drama—just a passing remark at the mailbox—but it lodged under Julie’s skin anyway. She smiled through errands and emails, while the same sentence replayed, sharper each time.
By evening, she couldn’t stand the not-knowing. She told herself the camera was there for safety, nothing more, and that one quick check would calm her down. Her thumb hovered over the app, hesitated, then pressed play as her stomach tightened.
The footage loaded, and Julie’s heart dipped before her mind could catch up. Something about what she saw didn’t just sting—it burned. Grief turned hot, then angry, until it felt like her blood was boiling. How could he do this? she thought.