That night, sleep was impossible. I spent hours researching security systems, jumping at every little sound. By morning, I was jittery from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. At 8 a.m. sharp, I called a security company.
“I need cameras installed around my house. Today.”
“Ma’am, our earliest slot is next week—”
“No,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “Someone’s planning to break into my home. I need those cameras now.”
The urgency in my tone must have struck a chord because the receptionist softened her voice. “Let me see what I can do. Can you hold for a moment?” After what felt like an eternity, she returned with good news. “We had a cancellation. Our team can be there in two hours.”
The security team arrived, and I paced the house as they installed cameras. Every passing car, every dog walker suddenly seemed suspicious. Just as they were finishing, Leona pulled into my driveway, her expression grim.
“Nora, we need to talk inside,” she said. I sent the kids to their rooms before sitting down with her.
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