She was managing me.
Three days into my vacation, I was sitting by the hotel pool when my phone buzzed.
It was a text from my friend Rachel.
Attached was a photo.
At first, I could not make sense of what I was looking at.
Then my stomach dropped.
It was my backyard.
My backyard.
And there was a huge barbecue party happening by my pool.
At least 20 people were gathered outside.
Music speakers sat on my patio table.
Someone was grilling burgers.
Several strangers were swimming in my pool, and one guy appeared to be jumping into the water from one of my patio chairs.
Rachel’s message read: “Didn’t even invite me?”
I stared at the screen.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
My hands started shaking.
Maybe there was some explanation.
Maybe Melissa had invited a couple of friends over after feeding Oliver.
Maybe the photo looked worse than it really was.
Maybe there was something I was missing.
Then I remembered something.
About a year earlier, after several reports of break-ins in our neighborhood, I had installed a complete security camera system.
The cameras covered the front yard, backyard, driveway, and several common areas inside the house.
I rarely checked them anymore.
