Chapter 3: The Walls Have Eyes

Jake couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It had been two days since his discovery in the attic, and every moment felt like performance art—smiling at breakfast, kissing Ella goodbye, pretending to care about insurance claims while his mind churned with images of Greg's handwriting and Leo's teenage face.

The photograph remained hidden in his wallet, tucked behind his driver's license like a talisman of truth in a world built on lies. Every few hours, he'd find an excuse to check that it was still there, proof that his growing paranoia had a foundation in reality.

At work, Jake found himself studying his colleagues with new eyes. Did they notice his distraction? Could they sense the fear that seemed to radiate from his skin like heat? Sarah's replacement, Carl, had already settled into her old routine, and Jake wondered if anyone else found it disturbing how quickly the office had adapted to her absence.

"Miller!" Peterson's voice cut through Jake's spiraling thoughts. "Conference room, now."

Jake's stomach dropped. Had someone noticed something? Had Ella somehow reached into his professional life too?

But Peterson only wanted to discuss the Henderson account, and Jake managed to stumble through the meeting with his usual competent mediocrity. As he returned to his desk, however, a new thought struck him—one that made his hands tremble as he reached for his coffee.

The security cameras.

Every office building had them, of course. But Jake had never really thought about who monitored them, who had access, who might be watching the feeds. As he glanced up at the small black dome mounted in the corner of the office ceiling, a chill ran down his spine.

During his lunch break, Jake made his way to the building's security office. He'd never been there before—had never had reason to visit the basement-level room where the building's safety systems were monitored.

"Can I help you?" The security guard, a tired-looking man in his fifties, barely glanced up from his bank of monitors.

"Jake Miller, from Hartwell Insurance on the third floor," Jake said, trying to keep his voice casual. "I was wondering about the camera system. My wife is concerned about building security after that break-in downtown last month."

It was a weak excuse, but the guard seemed uninterested in questioning it. "Standard setup. Cameras in all common areas, hallways, lobby. Feeds are monitored during business hours, recorded 24/7. We keep footage for thirty days before it gets written over."

"Who has access to the footage?"

"Building management, police if there's an incident, and..." The guard paused, consulting a clipboard. "Looks like we have a contract with an outside security consulting firm. They do periodic reviews, help us identify potential vulnerabilities."

Jake's mouth went dry. "What's the name of the firm?"

"Miller Security Solutions," the guard read from his clipboard. "Funny, same last name as you. Any relation?"

The world tilted sideways. Jake gripped the edge of the desk to keep from falling. "Miller Security Solutions?"

"Yeah, they've been working with building management for about... oh, five years now. Real thorough outfit. The lady who runs it, she's got an eye for detail you wouldn't believe."

Five years. The same amount of time Jake had been married to Ella.

"This lady," Jake managed to whisper. "What's her name?"

"Let me check... here it is. Eleanor Miller. Real professional. Comes by every few months to review our procedures, check the camera angles, make sure we're not missing any blind spots."

Eleanor. Ella's full name, the one she'd used professionally before their marriage. The one that would still appear on business licenses and contracts.

Jake fled the security office on unsteady legs, his mind reeling. Ella hadn't just been watching him at home—she'd been monitoring his entire professional life for years. Every conversation, every interaction, every moment he thought was private had been recorded and reviewed by his wife.

The scope of her surveillance was breathtaking in its thoroughness. No wonder she always knew things she shouldn't know. No wonder she'd known about his drinks with Sarah before he'd even made it home that night.

Jake stumbled into the nearest bathroom and vomited until his stomach was empty, then sat on the cold tile floor trying to process what he'd learned. How long had Ella been planning this level of control? Had she orchestrated their reunion at the high school gathering? Had she been watching him even then, selecting him as Greg's replacement before Greg was even dead?

His phone buzzed with a text message, and Jake's hands shook as he read it:

Hope you're having a good day at work, darling. Don't forget we have dinner reservations at Romano's tonight. I made them for 7:30. Love you! - E

Jake stared at the message, his blood turning to ice. He hadn't mentioned anything about dinner plans. They hadn't discussed Romano's. But somehow, Ella had known he would need the comfort of their favorite restaurant tonight, had known he would be emotionally vulnerable and in need of the familiar ritual of their regular date nights.

She was always one step ahead, always anticipating his needs and reactions with the precision of someone who had been studying him like a laboratory specimen.

The rest of the workday passed in a blur of paranoid glances at security cameras and forced normalcy. Jake found himself cataloguing every movement, every expression, wondering what Ella would see when she reviewed the footage. Did she watch him eat lunch alone in his car? Had she seen him talking to the security guard? Did she know about his trip to the attic?

By the time Jake arrived home, his nerves were stretched to the breaking point. But Ella greeted him with her usual radiant smile, her kiss soft and loving, her concern for his apparent tiredness so perfectly calibrated that Jake almost believed it was genuine.

"Rough day?" she asked, helping him out of his jacket with practiced efficiency.

"Just busy," Jake lied, watching her face for any sign that she knew where he'd been, what he'd learned. But Ella's expression remained perfectly innocent, perfectly caring.

At Romano's, she was the ideal companion—attentive but not clingy, interesting but not demanding, beautiful enough to make other men glance enviously at Jake while somehow making him feel like he deserved her attention. It was a performance so flawless that Jake might have been fooled if he hadn't spent the afternoon learning the truth about Miller Security Solutions.

"You seem distracted tonight," Ella observed over dessert, her voice carrying that note of concern that Jake now recognized as a warning.

"Just thinking about work," he said, forcing a smile. "Peterson's been pushing hard on the quarterly numbers."

"Maybe you should look for something new," Ella suggested, her tone light and conversational. "Somewhere with better management. Better security."

The word 'security' hit Jake like a physical blow, and he nearly choked on his tiramisu. Was she mocking him? Testing him? Or was it just coincidence?

"I like my job," Jake said carefully. "It's stable. Predictable."

Ella's smile widened. "Of course you do, darling. Stability is so important in a marriage. Knowing where you are, who you're with, what you're doing. It creates such a sense of... security."

There it was again. Jake met her eyes across the table and saw something flicker in their depths—a flash of knowledge, of amusement, of complete and total control.

She knew. Of course she knew. She'd probably watched him discover the truth on the security footage, had seen his face as the guard revealed the connection to Miller Security Solutions. She might have even orchestrated the whole thing, nudging him toward asking the right questions so she could watch him realize the scope of her surveillance.

"You're right," Jake said quietly. "Security is everything."

Ella's smile became radiant, triumphant. "I'm so glad you understand that, Jake. Some people fight against security, thinking it's restrictive. But people who truly love each other want to know everything about each other. Want to share everything."

"Everything," Jake repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"Every thought, every feeling, every moment of every day." Ella reached across the table to take his hand, her fingers intertwining with his in a gesture that looked loving to any observer but felt like shackles to Jake. "That's what real marriage is. Complete transparency. Complete trust."

Jake nodded, playing his part in their twisted pantomime. But inside, his mind was racing with a terrible new understanding. The cameras at work were just the beginning. If Ella could arrange comprehensive surveillance of his professional life without him knowing, what else had she arranged? What other aspects of his existence were being monitored and controlled?

His gym? The grocery store? His doctor's office? How deep did the web of Miller Security Solutions extend into the fabric of his life?

As they drove home through the familiar suburban streets, Jake found himself looking for signs—security cameras, unmarked vehicles, anything that might indicate the true extent of Ella's surveillance network. But everything looked normal, peaceful, exactly as it always had.

Which was, Jake realized with growing horror, exactly the point. Ella's control was so comprehensive, so seamlessly integrated into his daily routine, that he'd never noticed it. She hadn't just trapped him in their house—she'd trapped him in an entire false reality where every moment was observed, every interaction catalogued, every potential threat neutralized before it could fully materialize.

Sarah had never stood a chance. From the moment she'd touched Jake's arm at Murphy's, she'd been marked for elimination by a system that had been watching and waiting for exactly that kind of transgression.

"Penny for your thoughts," Ella said as they pulled into their driveway.

Jake turned to look at his wife—his beautiful, devoted, utterly terrifying wife—and realized that his thoughts were probably the only thing she couldn't monitor directly. Yet.

"Just thinking about how lucky I am," he said, the lie coming easier now. "To have someone who cares so much about our security. Our future."

Ella's smile could have powered the entire suburb. "Oh, darling. You have no idea how much I care. How far I'll go to protect what's ours."

As they walked into their house together, Jake caught sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror. He looked pale, haunted, like a man who had just realized he was living in a beautiful prison designed specifically for him.

Behind him, Ella was already humming softly as she turned on the lights, moving through their home with the satisfaction of someone surveying a perfectly ordered domain.

Jake wondered if the house had cameras too. If Ella watched him sleep, watched him shower, watched him stare at the ceiling during the long, sleepless hours when he wondered how many other men had stood in this same hallway, wearing this same expression of dawning horror.

The walls had eyes, Jake realized. All of them. And they all belonged to his wife.