Rosa was there, too. She wasn’t our nanny anymore; she was family. She sat in a rocking chair, knitting a blanket—a real one, not one meant for a hospital bed.
I looked at my phone. A news alert popped up: Eleanor Montgomery Denied Bail; Spencer Montgomery’s Health Declines in Custody.
I deleted the notification.
I didn’t need cameras anymore to know what was happening in my home. I didn’t need to hide. For the first time in my life, the air I breathed was mine. The children were safe. And the monsters were exactly where they belonged: in the dark, being watched by the world they tried to deceive.
I put the phone face down on the table and walked toward my sons. The cameras were off. The real life had finally begun.
