I opened a blank document. I didn’t write a diary. I didn’t write a suicide note. I wrote a ledger.
Phase One: Invisibility.
To catch a monster, you must first become the background noise of their lives. For the next three weeks, I became a ghost. I didn’t talk back. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t even look them in the eye. I became the perfect, silent servant. I cooked Lydia’s poached eggs exactly to her liking; I polished Arthur’s shoes until they shone like mirrors; I even picked up Kyle’s discarded laundry without a single sigh of resentment.
They loved it. They took it as a sign that the “lesson” in the kitchen had finally broken my spirit.
“See?” Arthur remarked one evening over dinner, cutting into a rare steak. “A little firm guidance is all she needed. She’s finally contributing.”
