They had spent the whole summer acting careful. My mother clipped coupons in front of me and sighed over grocery prices. My father shook his head when I suggested one quiet weekend away together, like I had asked him to buy a second house instead of share a motel room and a diner breakfast. “This summer we’re staying in,” Mom told me. “It’s just too much.” I believed her because believing them had become a reflex, even after years of little disappointments. They knew I kept one reserve account for emergencies, and they knew my health was the reason I guarded it like oxygen. At 3:08 in the morning, my phone buzzed hard enough to wake me. The notification said $9,860 had been withdrawn from my reserve fund. I sat up so fast the room tilted, opened the banking app, and watched my own life turn into someone else’s vacation. There were first-class flights to Mykonos. There was a luxury suite, a private driver, designer shops, spa treatments, and restaurant holds that cost more than my rent. Every charge use

Audrey enlarged the photograph.

Martin’s briefcase appeared ordinary at first.

Dark leather.

Brass locks.

A scratch near the lower corner.

Then she noticed the thin black cable emerging from one side and disappearing beneath his coat.

The phone vibrated again.

SIGNAL REPEATER.

Audrey’s mind moved quickly.

A repeater could capture or boost nearby communications.

It could intercept devices.

Copy transmissions.

Perhaps activate something.

“Diana,” Audrey called.

“Yes?”

“Move away from Martin.”

“What?”

“His briefcase. There is a cable running from it under his coat.”

Outside, shoes scraped against the floor.

Martin’s voice rose.

“This has gone far enough.”

A sharp electronic tone sounded.

Then every light in Audrey’s room went out.

The fetal monitor went dark.

The steady beat of her son’s heart vanished.