I came home to visit my elderly mother, but when I offered to help bathe her, she shrank back in terror

Renee photographed the device without touching it further.

“We need the evidence technician.”

Sheriff Mercer came upstairs moments later. His face hardened when he saw the lens.

“Everyone out of the room,” he ordered. “This is now a secured scene.”

As we moved into the hallway, one of the deputies called from the office downstairs.

“Sheriff, we found more equipment.”

Mercer looked at me.

“How much more?”

The deputy’s reply carried through the stairwell.

“Several monitors. Multiple camera feeds.”

Mother gripped the railing.

“They watched me?”

I put an arm around her.

We descended slowly.

Julian and Chloe stood near the front door under the supervision of a deputy. Chloe clutched her purse against her chest. Julian’s earlier outrage had been replaced by careful silence.

The home office door was open.

Inside, six small screens displayed live images from different parts of the house.

The kitchen.

The living room.

The upstairs hallway.

Mother’s bedroom.

The guest bedroom.

And the bathroom.

My stomach turned.

The bathroom camera was positioned high above the mirror.

Chloe looked at the monitors and began speaking rapidly.

“They were for safety. She falls. She wanders.”

“You recorded her bathing,” I said.

“We never watched that feed.”

One monitor showed a list of archived files.

Hundreds of them.

Julian stepped forward.

“I want an attorney.”

Sheriff Mercer nodded.

“That would be wise.”