Chapter 5 - The House With Cameras
The ambulance ride blurred at the edges.
I remember Alex sitting where the paramedic allowed him, one hand gripping the rail, saying nothing because if he spoke, he might not stop shaking. I remember the monitor belt around my stomach. I remember the medic saying the baby’s heartbeat was present and steady for now. For now became the only phrase I could hold without falling apart.
At the hospital, they took me to labor and delivery triage.
Not because I was giving birth.
Because trauma during pregnancy changes the rules.
A nurse named Kelly spoke directly to me, never to Alex first, never to anyone else. That mattered. She asked whether I wanted Victor, Helena, Raul, or Nora listed as visitors.
“No.”
She asked if I wanted security status on my room.
“Yes.”
She asked if there were cameras in the home.
I closed my eyes.
“Yes.”
Victor had installed them.
Kitchen. Living room. Nursery hallway. Front door. Back door. He said it was for safety because “pregnant women forget things.” I hated them, but I did not know the passwords. He and Raul managed everything.
Alex leaned forward.
“I have the login.”
My eyes opened.
“How?”
He looked almost ashamed.
“Victor reused your old Wi-Fi password on the camera account. I guessed it after your message came through.”
The nurse called the officer stationed nearby.
By noon, police had preserved the kitchen video from the home security system. It was worse than Nora’s phone because it showed the whole room. Victor waking me before dawn had not been recorded, but the kitchen was. Me entering pale and unsteady. Helena mocking me. Nora raising her phone. The eggs falling. Raul not moving. Victor picking up the stick. Helena telling him to hit me again.
No one could call it a misunderstanding.
No one could say I fell.
No one could say pregnancy made me unstable.
The house had watched them.
And for once, the house did not belong to their story.
A detective came that afternoon.
Detective Harris. Calm eyes, gray blazer, not easily moved by tears or theater. She asked if this was the first time Victor had been violent.
I looked at Alex.
Then I told the truth.
Not all of it beautifully.
Not all of it in order.
But enough.
The locked pantry.
The controlled bank card.
The “family meetings” where Helena told me wives who kept secrets from husbands lost their privileges.
The times Victor grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise.
The day Raul blocked the driveway with his truck because I tried to go to my sister-in-law’s baby shower alone.
The night Nora filmed me crying and sent it with laughing emojis.
Detective Harris wrote everything down.
Then she asked, “Did they ever discuss the baby?”
My hand moved to my stomach.
“Yes.”
“How?”
May you like
I stared at the hospital blanket.
“Like he belonged to them.”
