The woman in the video was different, her hair usually cascaded down her back, unbound, because she knew I loved it that way.
But this woman had her hair pulled back into a ponytail.
The clothes she wore were indistinct, obscured by the apron she had on.
The clip lasted only three or four seconds before I had to cut it from the video.
I forgot about my work, replaying that brief clip over and over.
Had it not been for the recent stress, I might not have cared about such a detail.
After all, the world is full of look-alikes, and the drone's high-altitude and varying light conditions could cause distortions.
The woman in the footage was blurry, sothing I would usually dismiss.
But for so reason, seeing her made incredibly anxious and concerned.
Even zooming in, I couldn't make out her face clearly, only her overall appearance, which I was 80% sure was Betty.
My eyes grew sore from staring, and I paused the video at the mont the woman looked up at the drone.
Leaning back in my chair, my heart stirred with turmoil.
"How could she look so much like her?" I pondered, trusting my gut feeling and clinging to that image.
If it really was Betty, what was she doing here?
I wasn't worried about her having ti; she managed a lab at the school, a rather lax job.
But why would she co here?
There seed to be no one she knew in this place; she had never ntioned anyone.
Unable to focus on work, I shut down my computer and decided to head ho to ask Betty directly.
I saved the video on my phone.
By the ti I got ho, it was past 7 PM.
I entered the house but didn't see Betty anywhere.
The living room lights were on, and the bathroom door was closed with lights on and the sound of running water inside; Betty was taking a shower.
After changing my shoes, I noticed the dinner covered with a thermal lid on the dining table, wafting delicious slls.
Despite not having eaten dinner, I wasn't very hungry.
The bathroom echoed with the sound of water and Betty's beautiful singing as she bathed.
In the bedroom, I saw the clothes Betty wore today.
Recalling the clothes of the woman in the video, they seed different.
To confirm, I quietly checked my phone; indeed, they were not the sa.
Looking back at the prepared dinner and imagining Betty's cheerful deanor, I couldn't bring myself to believe it was really her in that video.
But the doubt lingered.
Betty didn't know I was ho yet.
After so thought, I decided not to confront Betty directly.
If I was wrong, it could unnecessarily upset her.
I planned to visit the courtyard in the next day or two to discreetly investigate who lived there.
If it turned out to be a woman resembling Betty, it would all be a misunderstanding.
Since I was already ho and Betty hadn't noticed, perhaps I could eavesdrop a bit, just to see what she did when I wasn't around.
Unlike before, our ho surveillance was down, so I couldn't watch what happened inside the house.
I quickly left the bedroom and headed to the front door to grab my shoes, then stealthily made my way to the back balcony.
I had been here many tis before, always spying from this spot.
Lately, I'd been paranoid, and the quickest way to stop the wild thoughts was to find the answers myself.
Discovering the truth would save from living in a fog.
I bowed briefly to my father's morial tablet and then settled into a long wait.
Betty's showers always lasted at least an hour, and I had no idea how long she had been in there already.
The balcony was dark, and I sat on a small stool, nearly dozing off when I finally heard the door open—Betty had finished her shower.
The balcony lights were off, but the living room was illuminated, allowing to sit directly in front of the door and look through the glass into the living room.
I could see Betty in the living room, but she couldn't see on the balcony.
From the bathroom erged a stunningly sexy figure; Betty was wrapped in a towel, revealing deep cleavage and the upper part of her ample breasts, seductive and captivating.
After leaving the bathroom, she went straight into the bedroom.
The living room lights were still on, and after a while, Betty ca out wearing a nightgown.
She turned off the living room lights and then returned to the bedroom, leaving only our bedroom light on...
Before coming ho, I had called Betty, telling her I didn't know when I'd return and asked her not to call to avoid disturbing my work.
The house fell silent, with only our bedroom light still on, indicating Betty hadn't gone to sleep.
What was she doing up?
It was already her usual bedti, but she was still awake.
Was she worried about ?
I checked my phone to make sure it was on silent, relieved that Betty hadn't called.
What would I do if she did?
Suddenly, from the bedroom ca Betty's giggling, so out of place in the quiet night.
She must have been on her phone or watching videos, I thought.
As ti ticked by, and the clock struck ten, the bedroom light finally went off, Betty going to sleep nearly an hour later than usual—perhaps she really was worried about .
I sat on the balcony, my back aching but not feeling too tired, reassured by the quiet night and Betty's lack of suspicious activity.
Maybe I was just overthinking.
After about half an hour, I got up and quietly opened the balcony door, tiptoeing barefoot towards the living room.
Reaching the bedroom door, I heard Betty's steady breathing; she had fallen asleep.
Relieved, I went to the door, put on my shoes, then opened and closed the door loudly, pretending I had just co ho.
"Honey, you're back, working so late..." Betty, roused by the noise, rubbed her eyes and propped herself up, her voice groggy.
"Yeah, just finished up..." After washing up, I returned to bed, and Betty snuggled against my shoulder, quickly falling back asleep.
Watching her peaceful sleeping face, I couldn't believe she would hide anything from .
Still, to dispel the last shred of doubt, I planned to visit that place tomorrow, just to clear my mind once and for all.
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