A low, rhythmic clicking sound started coming from the built-in ceiling speakers.

It sounded like a digital clock ticking down.

I backed away from the wall panel.

My phone on the kitchen island buzzed again.

A new text message notification slid down the lock screen.

It came from a number that was blocked.

I walked back to the island and picked up the device.

I unlocked the screen and opened the message.

It was an image file.

The photograph showed a high-definition view of the kitchen from a high angle.

I could see the top of my own head near the island.

I could see the open pantry door and the bottle of olive oil on the second shelf.

The photo had been taken seconds ago.

My breathing became shallow and fast.

Another text message arrived immediately after the image.

“You forgot to preheat the oven, Clara.”

My gaze slowly moved from the phone screen back to the black camera dome.

The blue light stopped pulsing.

It turned a solid, steady red.

The lens inside the dome began to rotate with a faint mechanical whine.