The Digital Tunnel

Marcus’s threat hung in the air, heavier than the sterile scent of the nursery. He lingered by the vent for another heartbeat, his shadow stretching across Leo’s crib like a shroud, before finally retreating into the hall. The door clicked shut, but Elena didn't move. She sat in the nursing chair, her fingers digging into the upholstery until the seams groaned.

Poison. Strong stuff. He wasn't talking about rodents.

She waited for the rhythmic creak of the floorboards to fade toward the master suite. Only then did she reach beneath the weighted blanket and pull out the eye-gaze tablet. The screen’s glow felt like a spotlight in the darkness.

*User: Vance_Admin_E*
*Message: Tariq, are you there? He’s suspicious. Mentioned "poison" for a mouse in the walls. I think he’s listening.*

The cursor blinked. Once. Twice. Elena’s stomach coiled. If Marcus had intercepted the tunnel, this was the end.

*Tariq: I’m here. Tunnel is holding. I’ve isolated User Val_77. Mrs. Vance, this isn't just a data mirror. It’s an active remote desktop protocol. Someone isn't just watching your house; they’re controlling your local hardware.*

Elena’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked at the ventilator, the silent guardian of her son’s life. If they had the hardware protocols...

*User: Can you kill their access?*

*Tariq: Working on a kill-switch, but it’s risky. If I drop the bridge, they’ll know I’m in. I’m tracing the offshore burst now. It’s an IP in the Caymans. Registered to an estate management firm. Life-Cycle Assets.*

The same name from the medical file. The pincer move was closing. Elena felt the walls of the nursery pressing in, the air becoming thin and clinical. She was digitally boxed in, her only ally a voice in a chat window.

*Tariq: Mrs. Vance, check your terminal status. I see a secondary packet request coming from your internal network. It’s a mirror-view command.*

*User: What does that mean?*

*Tariq: It means someone else is currently viewing your screen. Right now. In real-time.*

Elena froze. She stared at the tablet, her reflection pale and wide-eyed in the black glass bezel. She didn't look at the screen. She looked at the pinhole of the front-facing webcam.

The small, green LED that usually signaled an active camera was dark. The room was silent save for the *hiss-click* of the machine.

*User: The light is off. Are you sure?*

*Tariq: Positive. The command is coming from the guest cottage bridge. They’ve bypassed the hardware trigger for the LED. They hardwired the green light to stay off. Cover the lens.*

Elena looked at the webcam light. It was off. But Tariq said, 'They hardwired the green light to stay off. Cover the lens.'