Navarro noticed the shift in his face. What is it? Darius’s throat went dry. It’s been accessing… camera feeds.
The room went dead quiet. Melanie blinked. I… I don’t understand.
What camera feeds? Darius’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. Mine. He turned the laptop around.
My home security cameras. Someone’s been logging in and watching my live feeds. Carter’s expression tightened.
You’re saying someone has been spying on you through your own security system? Darius exhaled sharply. That’s exactly what I’m saying. But then… his stomach dropped.
Because the more he scrolled, the more he realized… it wasn’t just his cameras. His system had flagged multiple IP addresses. Some of them belonged to his network.
But others? Different homes. Oh. This is bad.
Darius murmured. Navarro leaned closer. What do you mean? Darius tapped the screen.
Whoever this is. They’re not just watching me. They’re watching other people in the neighborhood.
Melanie took a step back, shaking her head. No. No, that can’t be right.
Darius turned to her. You sure about that? He clicked another log. A new feed opened.
A dimly lit hallway appeared. Then a living room. Then a bedroom.
Melanie gasped. Wait. That’s… Darius didn’t even have to ask.
He recognized it immediately. It was her house. She stumbled backward, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Navarro’s voice was sharp. How the hell is this happening? Darius gritted his teeth. If I had to guess.
Someone in the neighborhood set up a fake network. A Wi-Fi signal that looks like a normal connection. People unknowingly connect to it.
And once they do, their devices get compromised. Carter’s face darkened. You mean… a man-in-the-middle attack? Darius nodded.
Exactly. Melanie’s voice shook. So you’re saying someone’s been… what? Watching me? My family? Darius’s eyes didn’t leave hers.
That’s exactly what I’m saying. She sank into a chair, her hands trembling. Oh my God.
Navarro’s jaw tightened. All right. We need to figure out who’s behind this.
And fast. But what none of them knew was that the person responsible was a lot closer than they thought. Detective Navarro wasted no time.
He pulled out his radio and called in for cybercrime support. This is bigger than we thought, he muttered to Officer Carter. If someone’s running a surveillance network, they’re not just invading privacy, they’re committing a felony.
Carter nodded, her expressions serious. And if we don’t stop them now, who knows how far they’ve already gone. Darius, still seated at his laptop, was already digging deeper.
He wasn’t a hacker, but he knew enough about network security to trace where the data was being sent. He opened the IP logs and froze. Wait.
This can’t be right. Navarro looked up. What? Darius turned the laptop screen so they could see.
The data isn’t going to some random server. It’s being sent to an address right here in the neighborhood. Melanie’s eyes widened.
You mean, someone close by is behind this? Darius nodded. It’s coming from a house just a few doors down. Navarro’s expression darkened.
Can you pinpoint exactly which one? Darius worked fast, cross-referencing connection timestamps with signal strength. Within minutes, he had a match. His stomach dropped.
He recognized the address. Melanie did, too. No, she whispered, shaking her head.
That’s… Darius cut her off, voice cold. That’s Brandon’s house. Brandon Foster.
Melanie’s own nephew. A 22-year-old college student who had moved in with her a few months ago. He was quiet, always on his computer, barely socialized.
Now, suddenly, things were making a whole lot of sense. Melanie’s face went pale. No.
No. That doesn’t make any sense. Brandon isn’t… He wouldn’t… Carter stepped in.
We need to talk to him. Now. Melanie hesitated.
She didn’t want to believe it. But deep down, something in her gut told her it was true. I’ll take you to him, she murmured.
Darius stood. I’m coming, too. Navarro gave him a sharp look.
No. You stay here. Let us handle this.
Darius clenched his jaw. He hated sitting back when he was the one who uncovered everything. But he also knew pushing back wouldn’t help.
Fine, he muttered. But you’d better get the truth out of him. But the truth? It was even worse than they imagined.
Melanie’s hands shook as she led Navarro and Carter down the street to her house. Every step felt heavier than the last. Brandon? The kid she had taken in? The one she helped through school? It couldn’t be him.
And yet, deep down, a voice in her head whispered. What if it is? She opened the front door, calling out. Brandon? Can you come downstairs for a minute? 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.