Julia sat up, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She swiped the notification and opened the live feed.
The room was bathed in the eerie, silver glow of infrared. Mia was lying on her side, her back to the camera. She appeared to be in a deep sleep. Everything looked normal. Julia was about to close the app, blaming a moth or a shift in the curtains, when she saw it.
Near the foot of the bed, the mattress… flinched.
It was a minute movement—a slow, rhythmic pulsing that lasted no more than five seconds. It looked as though something beneath the heavy foam was trying to breathe. The edge of the duvet lifted perhaps half an inch, then settled back down.
Julia’s breath hitched. She watched, her eyes wide and unblinking. Three minutes later, it happened again. This time, the movement was more pronounced. A distinct “squeeze” ran through the length of the bed, a mechanical contraction that caused Mia to shift uncomfortably in her sleep, though she didn’t wake.
Julia didn’t wake Eric. She didn’t scream. A cold, crystalline clarity took over her mind—the kind of hyper-focus that only mothers in crisis seem to possess. She threw on her robe, grabbed her phone, and walked down the hallway.
She watched the screen as she moved. As she reached the door to Mia’s room, the mattress moved a third time. On the screen, she saw a faint, green light flicker momentarily near the bedpost before vanishing.
Julia pushed the door open. The silence in the room was absolute, punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of her daughter. She stood over the bed, her phone held out like a shield. She crouched down, her eyes scanning the floor, the frame, the shadow beneath the bed.
Everything looked perfect. And that was the most terrifying part.
Chapter 5: The Discovery Beneath the Slats
