Several times, I noticed in the morning that my slippers had been moved and the chair beside my bed was in a different position.
I told my son.
“Mom, Rebecca loves you very much. You’re probably just tired.”
But one evening, when my daughter-in-law thought I was asleep, I overheard her talking on the phone.
“Yes, it’s happening again. If Michael finds out what’s going on at night, everything will change.”
Then she lowered her voice and added:
“I can’t keep doing this every night. I’m afraid that one day it’ll be too late.”
My heart tightened.
The next day, I installed a small hidden camera on my bedroom shelf, pointing it toward my bed and the door.
That evening, Rebecca brought me the water again.
I drank it, closed my eyes, and waited.
The next morning, my hand hurt even more.
I immediately opened the recording.
