No answer.
Navarro exchanged a look with Carter before stepping inside. "We're going up."
Melanie didn't argue. She just wrapped her arms around herself, her breath unsteady.
They climbed the stairs, reaching Brandon's bedroom door. It was shut. No sounds inside.
Navarro knocked hard. "Brandon, this is the police. We need to talk."
Still nothing. Then, the sound of movement: a chair scraping, footsteps.
Carter's hand hovered over her gun. "Open the door. Now."
Slowly, the knob turned. The door creaked open, revealing Brandon Foster.
He looked startled, nervous, eyes darting between Navarro, Carter, and his aunt. His hands fidgeted at his sides.
"What's going on?" he asked, voice tight.
Navarro studied him. "We have reason to believe you've been accessing private security cameras in the neighborhood. You want to explain that?"
Brandon's face barely flinched, but his fingers curled slightly, like he was gripping something invisible.
"What? That's crazy," he scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Carter wasn't buying it. "Mind if we check your laptop?"
His jaw tightened. "You don't have a warrant."
Navarro stepped closer. "Brandon, we can get one. But right now, we're giving you a chance to tell us the truth before this gets worse."
A long, tense beat. Then Brandon exhaled.
"Look, I..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't doing anything illegal, okay? I just..."
Navarro cut him off. "Then why is your IP address linked to a network breach involving multiple homes?"
Brandon froze.
Melanie's voice broke. "Brandon, please tell me you're not involved in this."
His eyes darted to her, and for the first time, his mask cracked.
"I didn't mean for it to get this far," he muttered. "It started as a joke. I wanted to see if I could get into someone's Wi-Fi, just to mess with them."
Navarro's voice was sharp: "So you admit you hacked into the network?"
Brandon hesitated, then he nodded.
Melanie's breath caught in her throat.