Chapter 12 - Caught in 4K

"Go ahead, Evelyn," I said, stepping into the doorway, perfectly still. "Light it."

Evelyn hesitated, startled by how completely calm I sounded. Her hand trembled as she held the flame near the lighter-fluid-soaked baby blankets.

"You think I won't?!" she shrieked. "You ruined my life, Mark! You chose that peasant over your own blood! You froze my accounts! You humiliated me in front of the whole town! I have nothing left!"

"You never had anything, Evelyn," I said, pointing up to the tiny black dome mounted in the corner of the nursery ceiling. "You didn't check this room, did you? The nursery camera went live three days ago."

Evelyn's eyes flicked to the ceiling. The small blue recording LED was blinking steadily.

"You are broadcasting your own arson trial live to the cloud, to my lawyer, and directly to the dispatch terminal of the local precinct," I said, checking my watch. "Deputies are already turning onto the block."

Sirens wailed in the near distance, echoing down Elmwood Lane with terrifying speed.

Evelyn looked at the lighter. She looked at the destroyed crib. The realization of her absolute, irreversible defeat finally crashed into her skull.

The lighter slipped from her fingers, clattering uselessly against the hardwood floor. The flame extinguished on impact.

She fell to her knees among the shredded baby clothes, clutching her face, sobbing not with remorse, but with the pathetic, self-pitying rage of a cornered predator.

"Mark... please..." she whimpered, reaching her trembling hands toward my boots. "I did it for you... I only ever wanted to protect you from being taken away from me..."

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"You didn't want a son, Evelyn," I said, stepping back so she couldn't touch me. "You wanted a possession. And your ownership expired today."

Two sheriff deputies burst into the room with tasers drawn. Within ten seconds, Evelyn was face-down on the floor, her hands zip-tied behind her back, her face pressed into the very paint she had thrown against the wall.