Raymond’s head snapped around.

He understood, instantly, what it meant, and he lunged for it, and tore it out of the wall, and threw it to the floor and stamped on it until it broke apart.

“What did you record?” he shouted at me.

I did not answer, because I did not need to.

Whatever the camera had seen and heard in that room, it had already sent, live, somewhere he could never reach it.

The truth was already out of the house.