But then it happened again when I waved at her from across the living room. She was sitting on the rug and I waved, just a stupid little wave, and she flinched back against the couch.

I don’t know how to describe it except that her whole body kind of braced. She recovered fast and went right back to watching her show and I stood there for a second trying to figure out what I had just seen. I mentioned it to our pediatrician at a routine appointment. She asked some questions, watched Callie for a few minutes, and said to keep an eye on it and come back if it got worse.

It got worse.

I ordered the camera on a Wednesday. It was $129 at Target, one of those stuffed animals with a lens hidden in the eye. Teddy bear. Brown, basic, nothing Callie would fixate on. I set it on the shelf in the living room across from the couch and I felt stupid the whole time I was doing it. I felt like one of those paranoid mothers you see in articles. I told Greg I’d done it and he was quiet for a second and then said okay. Just okay. I think he felt the same mix of this is probably nothing and we need to know.

The first three days were completely normal. Melissa arrived on time, Callie played, they had lunch, Melissa cleaned up after herself. I watched the footage each night and felt guilty for watching it. Day four, I opened the app during my lunch break at work and started scrubbing through the morning. Around 10:15, Melissa’s phone rang. She answered it in the kitchen, which wasn’t unusual.

But then I watched her go to the back door and open it, and a man walked in.

I actually stopped the video and rewound it. Watched it again. Thought maybe it was a delivery, a neighbor, something that would make sense. But he didn’t have anything with him. He just walked in like he’d been there before. Melissa said something to him that the audio didn’t fully pick up, something short, and then she went and sat back down on the couch with her phone and he sort of took over the room. That’s the only way I can describe it. He just settled in.