Chapter 2 - The Interception
I pulled into the driveway, the tires squealing against the concrete. I didn't bother grabbing my briefcase.
I unlocked the front door quietly, stepping into the foyer with the silent precision of a ghost. The house was deceptively calm. I could hear the faint hum of the television coming from the living room.
I walked into the kitchen and found Eleanor sipping tea, scrolling on her iPad as if she hadn't just tortured a recovering woman. She looked up, startled by my sudden appearance.
"Michael? What are you doing home so early? I told you, I have everything under control here."
"Where is Clara?" I demanded, my voice dangerously low.
Eleanor sighed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, she’s in the nursery, being dramatic as usual. I asked her to do a simple chore and she threw a tantrum. You really need to speak to her, Michael. She’s weaponizing her recovery."
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The sheer audacity of her lie made my jaw clench. I didn't scream. I didn't yell.
I simply pulled out my phone, opened the security app, and held the screen inches from her face. I pressed play.
