Then it moved again.
Not dramatically—just a slow pressure from below, as though someone were pushing upward with a shoulder or knee. The mattress dipped slightly beneath Mia’s back.
My heart started pounding.
“Mia…” I whispered to myself, even though she couldn’t hear me through the camera.
The movement happened again, stronger this time. The mattress lifted slightly in the middle before settling back down.
My mind scrambled for a reasonable explanation.
Maybe the frame was damaged.
Maybe a spring had snapped.
Maybe the new mattress had been installed incorrectly.
But none of those ideas explained what happened next.
The blanket lifted slightly near Mia’s legs.
As if something beneath it had pushed upward.
“Mia,” I said out loud, already getting to my feet.
I grabbed my robe and hurried down the hallway toward her bedroom while still watching the camera feed on my phone.
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