At 2 A.M., a Hidden

monitor was small, tucked behind a shelf of stuffed animals near the nursery closet. It recorded motion and sound. It stored everything automatically.

I didn’t tell Ava because I didn’t want her to feel watched.

I didn’t tell my mother because I didn’t think she needed to know.

At 2:07 a.m., while rain hammered the glass behind me, my phone buzzed with continue reading …