Evelyn’s breath hitched. She stared at the napkin as if it were a venomous snake.
“What is that?” Richard asked, frowning, taking a step toward me.
“That is your mother’s love, Richard,” I said. “But don’t take my word for it. Let’s ask the audience. Or better yet, let’s ask the director of this little movie.”
I turned toward the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. The antique wooden frame looked completely innocent, but tucked perfectly into the intricate carvings at the top was a pinhole lens, barely the size of a match head. I reached up and pulled down the tiny, wireless smart-camera. It was glowing with a faint, steady blue light, indicating an active local stream.
“You like tech, don’t you, Evelyn?” I whispered, holding the device up. “You liked using it to clone my SIM card and send fake texts. But you’re an old woman. You don’t understand how cloud networks work. This isn’t just recording. It’s been streaming directly to a secure, off-site server for the last three weeks.”
The room went dead silent again. The stranger took a step backward, his eyes widening. “Yo, lady, you didn’t say nothing about no cameras,” he muttered to Evelyn, completely breaking character.
