Chapter 6

"What time was your walk, ma'am?"She hesitated. Just a fraction of a second. Long enough to be noticeable."Early," she said. "Around 6:00."The woman with the notepad tilted her head slightly. "Interesting," she said. "Because the service interruption registered at 2:14 a.m."Lorraine's grip tightened on the clipboard.I watched from a few steps away, heart pounding. Not with triumph, but with something closer to disbelief. I hadn't planned this. I hadn't orchestrated anything. I just wanted my internet back. But now the machinery was moving, and it didn't care about neighborhood politics.They asked her where she'd been the night before, who had access to the alley behind the houses, whether she owned any tools that could cut reinforced fiber. She answered quickly—too quickly.That's when a man from the house across the alley spoke up. Greg. Quiet guy, IT consultant, keeps to himself. He raised his hand like he was in a classroom."I don't want to cause trouble," he said, "but my security camera might have something."Everyone turned. He pulled up footage on his phone. Grainy night vision. Timestamp clear as day: 2:12 a.m.Lorraine. Unmistakable even in infrared, pacing along the fence line. Stopping, bending down, standing back up.

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