Anxiety coiled around me like ivy. I had to uncover the truth behind that locked door. Seizing an opportunity one night, I excused myself to fetch an old photo album from storage, slipping close to the study. Pressing my ear to the cool wood, I held my breath. At first, silence reigned—then Lily's sharp, hushed rebuke pierced through: "No! Again!" Her tone was chillingly harsh. Charlie's pained whimper followed, stifled abruptly. Finally, a crisp "slap" echoed, like something striking a hard surface. I recoiled, chilled to the bone, retreating softly as my heart hammered in my chest.
The Deleted Video
The following weekend, while Lily showered with her phone charging on the bedside table, its lit screen tempted me once more. Unlocking it, I scrolled through her photo gallery. My finger halted at a thumbnail—a brief, dimly lit video showing a corner of our study! Playing it revealed a shaky scene: Charlie's front paws seemed restrained as he struggled frantically. Off-camera, Lily commanded sternly, "Steady! Don't move! I said don't move!" Just then, the shower stopped! Flustered, I fumbled to close the video but accidentally hit delete. As confirmation flashed, Lily emerged drying her hair. "Why were you on my phone?" she asked, puzzled. My throat parched, I turned the screen toward her. "Just checking the link for your new phone case," I rasped.
An Early "Business Trip"
Lily's nightly study ritual became excruciating. Watching Charlie drag himself out, his neck bruise healed but replaced by subtle bumps and scabs on his legs or flank, I devised a plan. Returning home Monday, I announced an urgent two-day work trip to a neighboring city, departing the next morning. She reacted naturally, even concerned. "So sudden? Travel safely," she said, embracing me. "Come back soon." Her clear eyes filled me with guilt, but the truth demanded this ruse.
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