“About our kids.”
Mark stared at me like he hadn’t heard me right. “They’re seven and nine,” he said slowly.
“I know,” I snapped, then took a breath. “I know.
And they said she can just keep calling. As many times as she wants.”
He went quiet for a second, jaw clenching.
Then he looked at me. “What do you want to do?”
“I want cameras,” I said.
“Outside. Covering the front. The sidewalk.
The street. The playground if it reaches. I want everything recorded.”
No hesitation.
“Okay,” he said.
“Buy them tomorrow. I’ll put them up after work.”
So the next morning, after I dropped the boys at school, I didn’t go home.
I went to the security aisle.
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