My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair

Two knocks.

“Michael?” Elisa, through the door.

“Dinner’s still out.” She tried the handle.

“Are you all right in there?”

I shut the water off and dried my hands on the folded towel, which took the fold out of it.

“Sophia had a scratch,” I said through the door.

“I’m getting her a bandage.”

“We keep the bandages in the upstairs cabinet.”