Chapter 10
I stood in bright dining room, new brass key tight in palm. Weight wrong. Edge bit skin. Mark held his key out, not pocketed, offering. Dave zipped tool bag, clink of spare pins. Jenna held mug, pink lipstick smudged, eyes on floor.
Mark spoke first. "We fix it now, together?"
I didn't answer right away. Breath shallow. Porch camera still above white door, red dot steady. Thought of yesterday afternoon, grocery bags in trunk, Helen watching from driveway while Mark and Jenna changed lock, wiped camera clean. Thought of brown bag, inner zip pocket empty where spare key used to live.
I slipped my key into blue jeans pocket. Metal warm against thigh now. Not his test anymore. Mine too.
"I need more than key," I said. Voice flat. "I need app on my phone. Same login. Same alerts. No sole control."
Mark nodded quick. "Yes. I bring it."
"No," I said. "Not 'I bring.' We do now. Side by side."
Dave shifted weight. "Want me stay as witness while you pair? Takes two minutes."
Jenna set mug down on wooden table. Coffee steam gone cold. "I can go, give you space."
I looked at her dark leather bag by chair, at second chair pulled out. Staged occupant trick still sour. But she had told him to tell me first. That mattered.
"Stay," I told her. "You part of this. You should hear boundary."
She stayed, hands twisted.
Mark pulled phone from beige pants pocket. SafeView icon white on blue. He held screen toward me, not away. Login field showed his email, password dots.
"This my account," he said. "I make one for you too, or we share same. What you want?"
"Shared," I said. "One house, one login. Both phones see same feed. Both phones get alert when door touched. Both phones can delete or save. No hidden admin."
He typed, turned screen. "We add your phone now. You set passcode we both know."
I pulled phone from brown bag. Battery low, screen smudged. He tapped Add Device, QR code bloomed. I scanned. SafeView asked for new shared password.
I thought for second. Not birthday, not easy guess. I typed porch-door-0417, month we moved in. Showed him. He memorized, typed same on his phone. App paired with soft chime.
Dave watched, arms crossed. "Good. Now test it. You got power shift documented."
Mark swallowed. "Also camera angle. You want it less porch-watching-you, more street-facing?"
I stared at white camera feed now live on my phone. Saw porch ceiling, white door with dark knob, my own shoes at threshold from camera eye.
"Yes," I said. "We decide together what's watch and what's home. Porch yes. Inside no. No interior feed without both saying yes, out loud."
Jenna exhaled. "He wanted interior camera in dining room too. I said no."
Mark flushed. "I thought - break-ins on County Road 9 -"
I cut him off, hand raised, not loud. "We talk fear later. First rule: no changes to lock or camera without text before, not after. Not while I gone grocery shopping. Agree?"
He nodded, held his key tighter. "Agree. I was wrong to do it solo. Scared someone could walk in, and I made you locked out instead."
I felt key in pocket again. Solid. Not promise yet, but boundary stated. Power moved inch back to shared.
May you like
Dave clicked case shut. "Locks rekeyed, two keys cut, both holders present. App shared. I log it." He left fresh keys list on table, both names written.
We stood in dining room that still smelled of staged coffee, white door now rekeyed, camera above porch no longer his alone. Next step watching together what it had already recorded.
