Chapter 2
The beeps echoed through the hallway.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
I lost count after that.
Evelyn's hand was shaking.
The remote control slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.
Mark reached the top of the stairs.
He took in the scene.
His mother, pale and trembling.
Me, standing in the doorway, holding something black and small in my hand.
The shattered vase visible behind me.
The remote control on the floor.
"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice tight with confusion.
"Ask your mother," I said.
I held up the bug so he could see it.
"She threw this vase at my head," I said. "And when it shattered, I found this inside. A listening device. She was spying on us. In our bedroom."
Mark stared at the bug.
Then he looked at his mother.
"Mom?" he said. "Is this true?"
Evelyn's face crumpled.
She tried to put on her best hurt, innocent expression.
"Mark, honey," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't know what that thing is. She must have put it there herself. She's trying to frame me. She's always hated me—"
"She threw it at me, Mom," I said, cutting her off. "She threw the vase right at my head. If I hadn't ducked, it would have hit me. And then she told me I'd never be good enough for you. That I'd never be part of this family."
I looked at Mark.
"And then she pressed that remote on the floor. And we heard beeps. Coming from all over the house. She didn't just bug one vase, Mark. She bugged the entire house."
Mark looked at the remote control on the floor.
Then he looked at his mother.
"Mom?" he said again. His voice was quieter now. Hurt.
Evelyn's mask slipped.
The innocent expression vanished.
Replaced by cold, hard anger.
"Fine," she snapped. "I did it. So what? Someone needed to keep an eye on her. She's a gold digger. She's only with you for your money. She's going to take everything from you and then leave you. I was just trying to protect my son."
She pointed a finger at me.
"She's manipulating you, Mark. Can't you see that? She's turning you against your own mother."
Mark stared at her.
I could see the conflict in his eyes.
The love for his mother fighting against the evidence.
Against what she had just admitted.
"Mom," he said, his voice breaking. "You tried to hurt her. You've been spying on us. How could you?"
"Because I love you!" Evelyn shouted. "I only ever wanted what's best for you!"
"This isn't love," Mark said. "This is control. This is... this is crazy."
He shook his head.
"I can't believe you did this," he said. "In our house. Our new house. We just moved in today."
He looked at me, and I saw something shift in his eyes.
The conflict faded.
Replaced by certainty.
By protectiveness.
He walked over to me.
He put his arm around me.
"You need to leave, Mom," he said.
Evelyn stared at him, shocked.
"What?"
"You heard me," Mark said. "Leave. Now. I don't want you here. I don't want to see you. I don't want to talk to you. Not until you get help. Not until you apologize to my wife."
Evelyn's face went from shock to rage.
"You're choosing her over me?" she screamed. "Your own mother? After everything I've done for you? After everything I've sacrificed?"
"I'm not choosing anyone," Mark said calmly. "But I am choosing my wife. And I am choosing my marriage. And right now, that means you need to go."
He gestured toward the stairs.
Evelyn stood there for a moment, trembling with rage.
Then she slapped him.
Hard.
Across the face.
Mark's head snapped to the side.
A red mark bloomed on his cheek.
I gasped.
"You ungrateful little boy," Evelyn hissed. "I gave you life. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? By throwing me out of your house for that... that woman?"
She didn't wait for an answer.
She grabbed her purse from the floor.
She stormed past us, shoving me hard with her shoulder as she went.
"I'll never forgive you for this, Mark," she called over her shoulder. "Never."
She stomped down the stairs.
We heard the front door slam.
And then silence.
Mark stood there, his hand on his cheek.
I turned to him.
"Are you okay?" I asked softly.
He nodded slowly.
But I could see the tears in his eyes.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm okay."
He pulled me into a hug.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered into my hair. "I'm so sorry she did this. I'm so sorry I didn't see it."
I hugged him back.
"It's not your fault," I said. "She's your mother. You wanted to believe the best of her."
He pulled back to look at me.
"I should have known," he said. "She's always been... intense. About me. About my life. But I never thought she'd do something like this. Never."
He looked at the bug in my hand.
At the shattered vase behind me.
At the remote control on the floor.
"We need to search the house," he said. "Find all the bugs. Every last one."
I nodded.
"Yeah," I said. "We do."
And as we stood there, in our new bedroom, surrounded by the wreckage of what should have been a happy day, I knew.
This was only the beginning.
Evelyn wouldn't go quietly.
May you like
And we had a long fight ahead of us.
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