I nodded, unable to form words yet. My heart still pounded, though slower now, the rhythm matching Kara's behind me.
"That was..." Cam started, then fell silent, typical of her sparse communication style. She pressed her lips to my hip instead.
A soft laugh bubbled up from my chest. "Yeah. It was."
Kara's arms tightened around me, solid and secure. I sank deeper into their embrace, feeling safer than I had since before I’d written the article that exposed the Bellante family's operations.
Since before my entire life had imploded.
But here, cradled between these three women, I felt whole again. Protected. Present in a way I hadn't been since entering protective custody. The constant vigilance, the fear, the isolation—all of it melted away in the heat of their bodies against mine.
I let my gaze wander around the room, taking in the soft shadows cast by the bedside lamp. The ceiling fan spun lazily above us. The walls, painted a neutral beige, seemed warmer somehow. Everything felt right. Perfect.
My eyes drifted to the large mirror mounted above the dresser opposite the bed. In it, I could see the four of us reflected—a tangle of limbs and shadows. I studied our reflection, memorizing this moment of peace.
That's when I saw it. A tiny pinprick of red light, steady and unblinking, reflected in the mirror's surface. It came from somewhere above the windows—from the wall or maybe the air vent.
I squinted, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The red dot didn't move or flicker. It just stayed there, constant and watching.
My contentment evaporated as realization dawned.
My brain stuttered like an old engine. The red dot glowed, unblinking. Watching. Recording.
"What is that red light? Is that…" I asked, my voice light with confusion that hadn't yet crystallized into understanding.
Kara and Cam exchanged a glance. Just a flicker of eye contact, but it confirmed everything. My stomach dropped as if I'd missed a step on a staircase.
It was a camera lens. And it was watching everything.
Our bodies remained intertwined, but the warmth between us vanished. The air chilled against my exposed skin. I felt suddenly, violently naked.
They had seen everything. The realization washed over me in sickening waves. Every private moment. Every shower. Every tear I'd shed when I thought I was finally alone. Every night I'd spent touching myself, thinking of...
My throat closed. The memories replayed with a new audience. My most vulnerable moments, my body, and my pleasure had all been consumed through that unblinking red eye. Not protection. Surveillance.
I thought of how they always seemed to know exactly what I needed.
Because they'd been watching. All along.
My body went rigid. I yanked away from their touches, scrambling upright and pulling my shirt down over my breasts and thighs. The fabric felt rough against my skin, nothing like the soft caresses of moments before.
"Why the fuck is there a camera in my bedroom?"
My eyes locked on Kara's face. She was the leader. She would explain this away. Tell me I was seeing things.
But her expression told me everything. No denial. No surprise. Just calculation.
"Sabine," Ellie started, her voice gentle as if soothing a spooked animal.
Kara cut in. "It's protocol."
Protocol. The word landed like a slap. I stared at them, these women who'd touched me, held me, made me feel safe—just moments ago—all the while violating my privacy in the most fundamental way.
"You've been watching me the whole time I’ve been here." Not a question. The horror of it expanded in my chest.
"Get out." My voice came out flat, cold, unrecognizable even to myself.
They didn't move fast enough. I couldn't bear to look at them another second.
