My Husband Destroyed the Kitchen Camera Before the Police Arrived — He Never Knew My Late Father Had Built It to Keep a Copy
“I remember,” I said.
His smile vanished.
I watched him try to read those two words, try to decide whether they were a threat or a surrender, and I let him wonder, because I was not going to tell him what else I remembered.
I was not going to tell him about my father’s security system, or the encrypted server, or the second copy of everything that had happened in that kitchen sitting safe in a cloud he did not know how to reach.
I only said I remember, and let it mean whatever his guilty mind decided it meant.