He could not bring himself to answer me, his eyes shifting to the floor. Frank took a step toward me, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low growl.
“If this story gets out, you will destroy your husband, your entire family, and your own reputation,” he warned. “Nobody will ever believe a hysterical woman who decides to speak out against a respected local official.”
At that exact moment, a very faint, persistent beep sounded from the corner of the room. My hidden camera had successfully connected to the cloud server and was uploading the footage.
Frank heard the noise and panicked, running out of the room and returning with the fake magazine housing my camera in his hand. He smashed it against the wooden floor, shattering the device into pieces.
“What exactly did you record?” he shouted while looming over me.
I didn’t answer him, and I didn’t have to. My cell phone, which was still hidden in my purse, vibrated intensely before turning off completely.
My best friend, Kelly, had received the automated distress signal I had programmed weeks ago. If I didn’t respond to her check in message in ten minutes, she was instructed to send my current location and the live video feed to the local police chief.
Frank grabbed my wrist with a crushing grip. “Where is the backup copy?” he demanded.
Before I could answer him, there was a sudden, thunderous knock on the front door of the house. “Police, open the door immediately!” a voice boomed from the outside.
Everything in the house seemed to freeze in time. Victor tried to make a break for the patio door, Brian stood paralyzed with fear, and Martha began to sob uncontrollably.
