Hilda pointed one finger at her.
Even without audio, I recognized the gesture.
A warning.
I called Calvin on a secure line.
“Do not send anyone to the nursery.”
His voice sharpened. “What happened?”
“Hilda knows about at least one camera.”
Silence.
“And she is removing food from their plates after photographing it.”
Calvin swore softly.
“I want every feed copied off-site now. Lock the archive so nobody in this house can erase it.”
“Done.”
“I also want the woman outside found.”
“Security can intercept her.”
“No.”
I looked at Rosalyn eating tiny bites while Camille reached toward her sister’s plate.
“If she were trying to hurt them, she had every opportunity. I’m going out myself.”
“Absolutely not alone.”
“Fine. You come. Nobody else.”
We left through the east service door ten minutes later.
The woman had moved back into the tree line. Calvin saw her first.
“Ma’am,” he called. “Please don’t run.”
She froze.
Up close, she looked younger than I expected, perhaps forty, with wet leaves clinging to the knees of her jeans. The worn canvas bag hung at her side.
When she saw me, fear crossed her face.
“Mr. Alvarez.”
I stopped.
“You know me.”
She looked toward the nursery window.
“My name is Rosa Medina.”
