When the sounds stopped, Mariam emerged in a bathrobe, satisfied, padding in slippers while casually tossing her hair. She lifted a bowl of soup, took a sip, and spat it back with disgust. “This is awful,” she sneered.
Charlton, however, picked up his chopsticks, tasted a bite, and froze for a moment. “This is…” he murmured, then bowed his head and ate, one mouthful after another. He polished off the entire table of food. I did not even twitch an eyelid.
Late at night, sleep settled over the house, and the steady rhythm of snores filled the rooms. I opened their bedroom door without a sound. Mariam slept deeply, and a tablet on the bedside glowed quietly. As my hand reached for the tablet, the corner of my eye caught the trash bin.
Several used condoms had been balled up and tossed inside.
A sharp pain stabbed my chest, as if someone had driven a needle into me. I did not linger. My fingers moved quickly, copying the surveillance videos from the tablet one by one.