Chapter 4
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Ella was about to reply when her fingertips suddenly froze midair—just above the notification, Chloe had posted a new update on Instagram.
The title stabbed at her eyes: "Late Night ASMR: Peaceful Moments at Home #SoundscapeDesign #HomeLife"
The cover image showed Chloe smiling at the camera with a blurred background, but the distinctive chandelier outline and familiar wallpaper pattern made Ella's heart sink abruptly.
She clicked on the video, and Chloe's languid voice flowed from the speaker: "Tonight I want to share some relaxing white noise with everyone, these are my favorite moments at home."
In the video, Chloe's fingers gently tap the edge of the glass. Although the background behind her is blurry, Ella can clearly recognize the layout of her own living room—the sofa she and David chose together, the floor lamp she found at an auction.
A burning sensation of nausea surges up her throat. Ella abruptly stands up, rushes into the living room, and positions herself precisely where Chloe was in the video.
A cold sensation transmits from the soles of her feet—she isn't even wearing shoes.
Raising her phone, she takes a photo from the same angle. Two images appear side by side on the screen: except for the blur effect, every detail matches perfectly.
This woman had not only invaded her home but had also recorded videos in her living room, showcasing them to the entire world.
Back in the study, Ella imports the video into professional audio analysis software. She isolates the ambient sound track, filtering out the main frequencies of Chloe's voice.
Soon, several faint but steady background sounds were extracted: the periodic humming of the refrigerator compressor, the airflow from the central air conditioning, and the faint hourly chimes of a clock.
Retrieving the historical logs from the smart home system, she found perfectly matching records: the refrigerator compressor's operation cycles during that time period, the constant temperature setting of the air conditioner, and the distant church bells striking nine in the evening. The video recording time was precisely pinpointed between 9:07 PM and 9:12 PM on Tuesday—the night when David claimed he would be pulling an all-nighter at the company for a project.
She packaged the video, audio analysis results, and timestamp evidence together, and directly dialed Sophia's video call.
"Sophie, look at what I just sent you," Ella's voice was cold as ice. "I want all information about this woman."
Sophia examined the files on screen, her expression gradually becoming grave: "My God, this is practically dancing in your face. She actually dared to record videos in your home?"
"Obviously she felt very safe," Ella's voice carried a sharp edge. "I'm going to make her pay for this mistake."
"Wait," Sophia suddenly leaned closer to the screen, "zoom in on the video at 37 seconds. Yes, right there, the reflection in the glass."
Ella enlarged the image and after enhancement processing, a blurry figure was reflected on the surface of the glass—a man leaning by the kitchen doorway, swirling a wine glass in his hand. Though the face wasn't clear, Ella was all too familiar with those shirt cuffs and that watch.
"The chain of evidence is complete," Sophia said softly, "What are you going to do? Confront directly or...?"
Ella's gaze fell on Chloe's latest update—that invitation to the jazz bar tomorrow night. "No rush. She likes to put on a show, right? Then I'll set up an even better stage for her."
She quickly browsed through Chloe's profile, carefully selecting just three most damaging posts: the ASMR video, the post hinting at an "unexpected gift" featuring a designer handbag, and a photo geotagged at an upscale restaurant near her home.
"I need you to help me with two things," Ella's tone was calm and professional. "First, get these contents notarized. Second, look up the layout of this jazz bar and their reservation list for tomorrow."
"You're going there?" Sophia looked worried. "That's too risky."
"Just for observation." Ella pulled up the street view map of the bar. "Since they're being so blatant about it, I certainly need to see it with my own eyes."
She captured a screenshot of the reflection in the video, saving it as "Evidence07." Then she opened an encrypted folder and began organizing all the evidence corresponding to each timestamp.
When the last file was archived, Ella leaned back in her chair, her gaze falling on the window. The sun was setting, and the city's silhouette gradually blurred into the dusk.
Tomorrow night, everything would be different.
She picked up her phone and sent David a message: "I'll be working late tomorrow night, don't wait for me for dinner."
She received a reply almost immediately: "Okay, I might be coming home late too. Don't work too hard, love you."
Ella stared at the message, a cold smile creeping onto her lips.
