Rachel stared at the ringing phone like it was an unwelcome intruder. She didn’t want to look away from the glowing monitor. “Hello?”
“Hey girl, what are you doing? You wanna meet me at the mall?” Dianna’s voice was bright and oblivious.
“I’m watching my husband entertain.”
Dianna sighed the sigh of a woman who had heard this too many times. “You mean your ex-husband. You’re divorced, Rachel. Big difference.”
“He brought a date home. He cooked for her. They’re chatting now. She’ll get bored soon enough.”
“Something is seriously wrong with you. I hope he marries her and moves out of your garage. You’re gonna be fucked when he finds those cameras.”
Rachel’s blood ran cold. “Why? Did you tell him?”
“No, but karma’s a son of a bitch. Take them down or tell him to find somewhere else to live.”
Irritated, Rachel snapped, “I think something’s burning—gotta go,” and hung up. She cranked up the volume on the feed. Jazz filled the dark apartment. Perfect mood music.
Calvin had green eyes and warm brown hair. That night he wore a blue shirt and black pants that made him look effortlessly put-together. After dinner, he reached for Denise and pulled her close. She felt safe in a way she hadn’t in years. She couldn’t believe these thoughts were crossing her mind on a first date. “Thank you,” he whispered against her ear. “For giving me a chance.”
“For what?” she asked softly.
He only smiled. Later, as he walked her toward the restroom, he asked for another hug. The embrace lingered, warm and promising. Denise felt herself softening. He was tall, kind, and smelled like comfort. But biology won out. “Uh, Calvin? I really need to use the bathroom.”
“I’ll get the movie ready,” he said, nodding toward the couch.
Inside the small bathroom, Denise washed her hands and froze. A tiny camera was mounted beside the light fixture. She recognized the model instantly — her company sold them. Heart hammering, she slipped off her shoe, smacked the wall for good measure, breaking the unit, then washed her hands again. She brushed her teeth, buying time, then stepped out.
Calvin looked concerned. “Did you just kill something?”
“It’s okay,” she said lightly. “I think I left my pills at home. I need to go.”
He apologized profusely about bugs in his rental. Denise played along until they reached the car. Once inside, she lowered her voice. “Keep pretending to look for my pills. Your bathroom is wired. The cameras are new — my company distributes them. Someone’s spying on you.”
Calvin’s green eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. I didn’t see a bug. I was covering. Are you into something illegal?”
“No! I’ve never even had a speeding ticket. The only court I’ve been to was my divorce from Rachel a few months ago.”
“Rachel?”
“Yeah. This is her place — her parents left it to her. I’m just renting the converted garage apartment. We never see each other. I electronically transfer the rent, that’s it.”
Denise thought, That’s the weirdest arrangement I’ve ever heard. Out loud she said, “The hardware is recent. If I were you, I’d call the FBI. Do you have your phone? I left mine inside.”
Calvin’s expression darkened with realization. “Rachel. It has to be her.” He offered to drive Denise home.
“No,” she said. “I still want to watch the movie. But living in your ex-wife’s place is creepy. You’re going to have to prove you’re really done with her and this house. We won’t do this again until you do both.”
As they walked back, Rachel burst out of the main house in her robe, clearly monitoring the live feed. Denise stared at her coolly.
“Do you live nearby? Why are you out here in your night clothes? You didn’t stop taking your mental meds, did you? Girl, let me walk you back to the group home.”
Calvin glanced between them. They really could pass for sisters.
Rachel sputtered. “Why are you talking to me like that? I haven’t taken those pills for months. I don’t think I need them. I never did!”
“Yes you do,” Denise replied.
Denise didn’t miss a beat. “You know you’re in trouble, right? Spying on your ex? You could plead insanity — everyone would believe it. Why are you even out here?”
Rachel stood frozen, looking small and silly under the porch light.
Denise turned to Calvin. “Ready to go back in?”
Inside, Calvin fetched a blanket. “My landlord turns the heat down at night,” he announced loudly for the hidden microphones. The movie stretched long. Denise drifted off on the couch. Calvin gently rested her head on his lap and traced her face with a fingertip, pausing at her lips. She stirred; he stopped, smiling to himself.
When Denise woke, the credits were rolling and Calvin was asleep. She rose quietly and studied the family photos on the wall. He woke, stretched, and joined her.
“That’s me, my brother Eddie, Dad, and my stepmom.”
“Do you have pictures of your mom?”
“Yes.” He led her into the bedroom. “You have to come in — it’s on the wall.”
The enlarged photo showed two little boys and a beautiful young Black woman embraced by a white man. “That’s me, Eddie, my father, and my real mother.”
“Your mother was Black?”
Calvin smiled softly. “Yep.” He pulled out old albums. “Sit here and I’ll tell you who’s who. Don’t worry — I won’t try anything.”
They paged through the photos, laughter mixing with stories of the past. Near the end, Denise froze over a party snapshot. “There’s crazy Rachel!”
Calvin looked stunned. Denise explained how they were only four days apart and used to claim they were twins because their mothers were identical twins. She lay back, staring at the ceiling, and told him the rest: the shooting, the fire, baby Lamarr dying in his crib, and how Rachel had hidden in the closet as a terrified child. The room grew heavy with old ghosts.
After a long silence, Calvin propped himself on one elbow, gazing down at her. “Will you go out with me again?”
Denise met his eyes, the warmth of the night still humming between them. “Not while you live here,” she said gently but firmly. “I need blankets and pillows for the couch. I have to be at work early tomorrow.”
The next morning Rachel called. “I thought I blocked you.”
“Why were you at my house last night?” she demanded.
“Don’t call me asking questions. Life isn’t a soap opera. Get back on your meds — that’s all I have to say.” Denise hung up, then spoke calmly to her AI assistant. “Save the last number and address. Associate it with order 567b342 and brick every unit she bought. Issue a 50% refund with a misuse notice. Check that the new cleaning service didn’t steal anything and that they vacuumed the stairs. Oh — and order a rebuild for the dry cleaning unit.”
“On it,” the AI replied cheerfully. “What about lunch and dinner?”
“I’ll eat here.”
“You’ve gained weight. You should walk to the Playground building. The filtered air is good for you.”
“What? Are you calling me fat? Girl, bye!” Denise laughed despite herself and headed to her meeting.
As the meeting wrapped, two colleagues cornered her. “Lunch plans?”
“Working through it. My assistant basically called me fat.” The group erupted in knowing laughter. Another woman joined in: “Mine told me I need more muscle and showed me what my legs could look like if I walked during lunch. I told her I’d walk forever for legs like Tina Turner’s.”
The hallway filled with chuckles and shared AI horror stories.
Later that afternoon, Denise’s phone buzzed with a text from the now-deactivated surveillance account. It was from Rachel:
“You really turned them all off?? I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t moving on too fast! Also your AI is mean. Can we talk about this like sisters?”
Denise snorted, showed the message to her assistant, and said, “Block her everywhere. And add a new rule: if any ex-spouse installs more than three hidden cameras, automatically forward the footage to the FBI with a cheerful note.”
The AI replied brightly, “On it, boss. Also, you’re glowing today. Must be the walking. Or the new man. Should I prepare a second-date playlist?”
Denise groaned, laughing as she headed out for that overdue walk. Some family ties, she decided, were better left disconnected — especially when your AI had better boundaries than your own relatives. At least the AI didn’t hide cameras in the bathroom.
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