I tried to convince myself that I was merely being paranoid and overthinking things. But day by day, Liam seemed to become more and more distant. It was as if something was truly bothering him, and it was eating away at me.
One evening, after putting Liam to bed, I started reviewing the security camera footage. We have several cameras installed around the house for safety purposes. Grace was unaware of their existence. Initially, I felt guilty for snooping, but I just had to know.
When I watched the footage, my heart sank. Every day at lunchtime, Grace would take Liam out of the house. She always claimed they stayed indoors, but the cameras told a different tale.
They would be gone for hours, and when they returned, Liam looked dirty, exhausted, and distant. On one occasion, I even saw Grace wiping him down as if she was trying to hide something.
I watched as she placed her finger on her lips and made a “shush” gesture to Liam. My hands tightened around my phone. What was going on? Where were they going?
By the fourth day of observing this, I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to uncover the truth. I took a day off from work and parked down the street, waiting for Grace and Liam to leave.
Just as I suspected, around noon, they slipped out of the house and walked down the street. I followed them from a distance, my heart pounding. They turned down an alley that I had never noticed before. At the end of the alley stood an old, run-down building.
Grace unlocked a rusty door, and they both entered.
I was terrified, but I had to know what was happening. I crept closer, my hands trembling as I took out my phone and began recording. The door creaked open slightly, and I slipped inside, trying my best not to make a sound.
The air in the basement was damp and musty. It smelled like a place that had been forgotten for ages. I saw a set of stairs leading down to what appeared to be a basement, and my stomach churned. What was Grace doing with my son down there?
I waited for a few minutes, then crept a little nearer. The door was slightly ajar, so I slipped inside, hardly breathing. The place smelled old and neglected. I could hear some muffled voices from below. I carefully descended the dusty stairs, trying not to make a noise.
And then… I halted.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, my heart was pounding so violently that I thought it might explode. But what I saw was nothing like I had expected.
The basement wasn’t cold and dingy as I had imagined. It was a spacious, well-lit room. The walls were painted a soft olive green – my favorite color.
I blinked, attempting to comprehend what I was seeing. Along the walls were shelves filled
