For a moment I didn’t understand what I was seeing.
Then the realization struck.
It wasn’t part of the bed.
It was equipment.
I lifted the mattress higher.
The tube connected to a small recording device taped beneath the bed frame.
My stomach twisted.
Someone had hidden it there.
“Mia,” I said quietly, “we’re going to the living room.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
Within minutes we were sitting on the couch while I called the police.
Two officers arrived about thirty minutes later. One carefully removed the device from beneath the bed while the other began asking questions.
“Do you know anyone who might enter your home without permission?” the officer asked.
I shook my head.
“No.”
But Mia spoke softly from the couch.
“The cable man came last week.”
Both officers turned toward her.
“What cable man?”
“He said he was fixing the internet.”
My blood ran cold.
Because I remembered that visit.
A technician from a service company had come to check the router in Mia’s room.
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