A utensil drawer slid. Marco watched the cat snake along the baseboards, tail bottle-brushed. Upstairs, a hallway lamp hummed alive. The back-door sensor pulsed again; the lock answered with a soft release, and then a confirming click. Doors sighed. Shadows moved.
The thermostat nudged downward by degrees, frosting the dining room mirror. The kitchen camera coughed up another notification: pantry motion detected. A second later, the garage tilt sensor reported an opening and settling, as if a panel had lifted. His uncle swore aloud. His aunt whispered a prayer.