Elena looked at the screen again.

“It was still recording.”

I thought about the nightstand, the lamp with the chipped blue shade, the drawer where Sophia kept her crayons and a box of raisins she hid from Elisa.

“Was it on when I was in there?” I asked.

“The log shows it was on all night.”

I sat down.

The chair was gray plastic, and it didn’t move.

“She told me the walls listen.”