But something didn’t feel right.
I crouched beside the bed and lifted the blanket slightly to inspect the mattress surface. Nothing unusual. The fabric was smooth and flat.
Then I remembered the camera’s angle.
It wasn’t aimed directly at the top of the mattress.
It was pointed toward the side.
Slowly my eyes moved toward the lower edge of the bed frame.
That was when I saw it.
The mattress wasn’t sitting evenly anymore.
One corner had shifted upward.
As if something beneath it had become wedged between the mattress and the wooden slats.
“Mia,” I whispered.
She stirred slightly.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
I tried to keep my voice steady.
“Sweetheart… did anyone come into your room tonight?”
“No.”
“Did you hear anything?”
She shook her head sleepily.
I slid my hand beneath the edge of the mattress.
And touched something that absolutely wasn’t part of the bed.
The instant my fingers brushed the object beneath the mattress, a cold wave ran through my body. The shape felt long and rigid, like plastic or metal. I quickly pulled my hand away and stood up.
“Mia,” I said softly, “come sit with me for a moment.”
She rubbed her eyes and climbed down from the bed.
