A small icon of a camera appeared in the top corner of the panel, its green recording light blinking twice.

I froze, my hand still resting on the strap of my shoulder bag.

“Alexander,” I whispered, pointing at the wall panel.

He turned his head quickly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the pulsing amber light.

“That shouldn’t be happening,” he said, his voice dropping to a low register.

Noah stopped walking toward the sofa and looked up at his father.

“Is the house broken, Daddy?” Lucas asked from the kitchen island, his fingers still tracing the cold marble.

Alexander didn’t answer right away.

He walked back to the panel, his long strides taking him across the polished concrete in seconds.

The green light on the camera icon blinked a third time, then remained steady and solid.

A tiny, mechanical click echoed from the small lens above the screen as it focused.

“Get the boys into the bedroom, Emma,” Alexander said, his back tense.

His fingers flew across the glass interface, tapping out a rapid series of commands.

I grabbed Lucas by the shoulder and reached for Noah’s hand.