After getting the notice for the business trip, I couldn't calm down at the office. I hate to admit it, but I was worried about my devoted wife and foster son back ho.
I wasn't afraid that Betty would do anything to betray , but I was concerned about what Michael might do. Given his young age and impulsive nature, especially during his teenage years, the possibilities worried .
Unable to sit still any longer, I rushed ho with so equipnt, only to find the house empty.
Although I had a full set of professional gear, there wasn't enough ti to install real-ti surveillance equipnt since I was leaving tomorrow. I only had a few hours today to set things up. However, I could still install so hidden caras.
I had already placed a small cara in Michael's room on the curtain, but it was tiny and had limited mory and battery life—it wouldn't last long.
Once ho, I spent the few hours I had installing temporary hidden caras in various rooms, including mine and Betty's bedroom, Michael's bedroom, the living room, and the bathroom. Finding discreet and effective spots for the caras was a headache, but I managed to get it all set up successfully.
With my professional skills, I was confident that neither Betty nor Michael would discover them.
Though the installation was complete, the caras were only temporary and couldn't provide real-ti monitoring. I would have to wait until I got back ho to download and review the footage.
This ant that if anything happened, I wouldn't know or be able to intervene imdiately. However, these caras were connected to the power supply and had substantial mory, capable of recording for weeks.
That evening, I returned ho on ti, and we had dinner as a family of three. I pondered whether to tell Betty about my trip now or wait until we were back in our bedroom.
Watching Michael eat, I couldn't shake off a peculiar feeling towards him—it was definitely not fondness. Perhaps from the mont he entered our ho, I had seen him as an adversary.
"Honey, I have to leave for a business trip tomorrow..." I decided to break the news at the dinner table while keeping an eye on Michael.
Upon hearing this, Michael stopped chewing for a mont. Unfortunately, since he was looking down, I couldn't see his expression, but I guessed he might be sowhat pleased, considering he was never very close to .
"Oh, how long will you be gone?" Betty seed accustod to my frequent trips and showed no surprise.
"About two weeks..." I don't know why, but as I was about to tell the truth, I unintentionally lied. I was only supposed to be gone for a week, but I said two weeks instead. Perhaps deep down, I wanted to maintain so sort of control.
"Oh... okay, I'll pack so things for you later. Take more stuff since it's two weeks..." Betty's expression darkened slightly upon hearing I'd be gone so long. She always found it hard to let go whenever I had to leave for an extended period.
After dinner, Betty cleaned up and started packing my bags while Michael went back to his room.
Betty always took care of these things whenever I had to travel. Once everything was settled, Betty and I lay in bed together, embracing each other.
This ti, neither of us was distracted by our phones; we just cherished the intimacy of our last monts together before my departure.
"Honey, be careful at ho by yourself, okay? Stay safe," I said, my voice heavy with all the worries I couldn't quite express.
"Don't worry, babe. Besides, we've got our son now, right? He'll look out for while you're gone," Betty murmured softly, her eyes closed, her cheek rubbing against my shoulder.
Hearing Betty's words, I couldn't help but give a wry smile. It seed my concerns flew right over her head. She didn't grasp the real weight of my words. *He'll protect you,* that's exactly what I'm worried about—the 'son' you're counting on.
Ti passed, and Betty drifted off to sleep. Tonight, she hadn't gone to check on Michael, and it seed like that might beco the new normal. Even though Betty was sound asleep, I lay awake, troubled thoughts keeping from finding any peace. To others, there might seem nothing to worry about.
But ever since Michael walked through our door, I've had this bad feeling—maybe it's that sixth sense people talk about, and as a writer, my intuition is often eerily accurate.
The next morning, I packed my bags with mixed feelings and headed to the office. Soon, I joined my colleagues in the cara van and we set off. As we drove out of the city, I couldn't help but look back towards my ho, though the city was too vast to see anything specific.
"Co on, Justin, stop looking. You worried about your gorgeous wife?" a close colleague teased, noticing my constant glances backward. His casual joke struck a nerve, though he didn't realize how close to ho he was hitting.
I just laughed it off, used to hiding my concerns in front of friends and colleagues. They all knew I was a man with my own set of challenges, and I had long beco accustod to appearing calm and collected around them.
As my colleagues gradually got to know Betty better, such jokes had beco less frequent, recognizing her character and integrity.
Upon arrival, we dove straight into preparing for the shoot. During a break, Betty called to check in.
In the evening, it was ti for our usual long phone chats. Betty often had more to say than I did, sharing amusing stories from school or venting a bit about work.
This ti, she talked a lot about Michael, updating on his day-to-day activities and ntal state. I knew she believed I was deeply concerned about Michael, the child I had brought into our ho.
The first night ended around 9 PM after we hung up.
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