The nightly notification had become a ritual of anxiety. Every evening, you told yourself you wouldn’t check it. Every morning, you watched the footage anyway. For two weeks, the pattern never changed. At exactly 3:17 AM, Helen left the house. At exactly 3:59 AM, she returned. The consistency was what frightened you most. Secrets usually left traces of chaos, but this felt measured, deliberate, almost professional.
Sitting in the dark living room on the fifteenth night, you finally decided to see the truth for yourself. As the clock reached 3:17, Helen stepped quietly through the front door and disappeared down the driveway. Instead of confronting her, you grabbed your jacket and followed at a distance. The streets were silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of traffic. Helen walked quickly but not nervously. She seemed to know exactly where she was going.
You trailed her through several residential blocks until she reached a small community center near the edge of town. The building was dark except for a single light glowing through a side entrance. To your surprise, Helen unlocked the door with a key and slipped inside. Confused, you moved closer and peered through a window.
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