Chapter Seventeen #3
Cam’s cursor moves on its own. No input. No keystrokes. Text populates the screen. Slow and deliberate. Letter by letter. Like it knows we’re watching.
Good morning.
Lila lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Oh, fuck that.” More lines appear on the screen.
You’ve built something clever.
But clever isn’t the same as unseen.
Cam’s voice drops to a whisper, barely audible. “It bypassed the perimeter without triggering anything. It’s riding the framework…” He swallows hard. “Like we wrote it into the code.”
My mouth goes dry. “Or…before us.”
Cam’s face pales even further. He leans closer to the screen, fingers hovering uselessly over the keys.
“No,” he mutters. “That’s not possible. We air-gapped the core layers.
There’s no external access point unless…
” He trails off, eyes widening as realization hits.
“Unless someone built a backdoor inside the air gap. From the very beginning.” The cursor blinks once, almost mockingly.
Sterling’s voice is low behind me, close enough that I feel the words against my hair. “Meaning it didn’t break in. It was already invited.” He pauses, then adds quietly, “Don’t answer it. Don’t engage.”
Lila crosses her arms, jaw tight. “I don’t like how familiar this feels.” Neither do I. More lines start typing themselves.
You’re close.
Careful not to remember the wrong things too fast.
The screen goes black. Silence floods the room, thick and suffocating. Cam exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. “It didn’t take anything,” he says, his voice rough. “Didn’t leave anything either.”
Sterling’s grip tightens on the back of my chair, knuckles whitening. “That wasn’t a warning.”
I stare at the dead screen, skin prickling with something older than fear. “No,” I say quietly. “That was a reminder.”
Lila looks between us. “Reminder of what?” I don’t answer. Because I don’t know yet. All I know is that the quiet we were sitting in wasn’t peace. It was permission. And something just took it back.
No one speaks for a long moment. The house seems to hold its breath with us, as if it knows better than to interrupt. Cam finally breaks the silence, voice rough and edged. “I’m running diagnostics. Full sweep—memory, cache, ghost processes. If it touched anything, I’ll find it.”
“You won’t,” Sterling says calmly.
Cam shoots him a sharp look. “That’s reassuring.”
“It’s honest,” Sterling replies, his voice calm and low. “Whatever that was didn’t stumble in. It didn’t need to touch anything,” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “because it already knows the layout.”
My fingers curl tighter against the edge of the table. “Like someone walking through their own house in the dark.” Sterling’s eyes flick to me, sharp and assessing. Like I said, something heavier than I meant to.
Lila shifts her weight. “Okay, cool. Love that for us.” She throws her hands up. “So what’s the move? Because my vote is still strongly in favor of coffee and aggressive denial.”
Cam’s jaw clenches, tension rippling across his face. “We lock it down. Strip it back. Rebuild the core.”
“No,” I say. All three of them turn to look at me.
“If we retreat now, we confirm we felt it,” I continue, voice steady.
“Whoever that was wanted us to know they’re here.
If we panic now, we hand them leverage.” I push my chair back, standing.
My legs feel steady. My voice does too. “We keep going. Same plan. Same pace. But now we assume we’re not alone in the room. ”
Lila lets out a low whistle, eyes wide. “That’s… deeply unsettling.”
“Get used to it,” I tell her gently, but firmly. “This isn’t Wade. This is something else. And until we know exactly what, we don’t let it dictate our moves.”
Sterling steps closer, his voice dropping low enough that only I can hear. “You sure you’re okay?”
I meet his gaze and hold it. “I don’t know. I don’t remember everything,” I answer honestly. “But I know this much. Whatever just spoke to us doesn’t scare me the way it wants to.” Something unreadable flashes across his face—pride, worry, maybe both.
Cam snaps his laptop shut with sharp finality. “Then we treat it like a watcher, not an attacker. No engagement. No acknowledgment.”
“Exactly,” I say, a faint, cold smile tugging at my lips. “Let it get bored.”
Lila tilts her head like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You say that like we’re dealing with a raccoon that got into the trash, not whatever the hell just crawled inside our walls.” A small, tired laugh almost escapes me.
Sterling straightens, voice turning sharp and professional. “We proceed the same. Asher stays in the center frame. Wade stays blind. And whatever just knocked on our door doesn’t get invited in again.”
Cam nods once. “Agreed.” The moment shifts, not calmer but clearer.
Outside, the day keeps going as if nothing happened. Inside, we move again. Purpose clicks back into place—fingers returning to keys, screens flickering to life. But now there’s a new rule sitting between us, unspoken and heavy: We are being watched. And whoever it is…knows something we don’t.