My hands shook as I took a pair of small sewing scissors from my pocket and snipped three stitches behind the left ear.
The black plastic casing of the camera slid into the polyester stuffing with a soft crunch.
I worked the tiny glass lens through the gap in the brown fur, hiding the rest of the body deep inside the bear’s head.
I set the bear back on the top shelf, angling its snout toward the foot of Emma’s mattress.
Through the window, the headlights of Evan’s sedan swept across the driveway, the bright beams cutting through the autumn dark before the engine died.
I hurried out of the room, wiping my dusty hands on my jeans as I reached the hallway.
By ten o’clock, the house was entirely dark.
We lay side by side in the master bedroom, the only sound the quiet rustle of the dry leaves against the gutters outside.
Evan turned onto his side, his back to me, but his breathing was too shallow for sleep.
I watched the dark shape of his arm move under the blanket. He reached out and set his phone face down on the nightstand, the small glass screen making a tiny click as it touched the wood.
