She’s always been fascinated by how the body reacts to electricity. He exhaled slowly, a grim realization crossing his face. Mrs. Ellison, the person who designed this system, understands both electrical engineering and biology.

They know how much current a human heart can take before failure. The words lodged in my chest like glass. I looked around the basement, the place where I’d done laundry, where my children used to play hide-and-seek, and it no longer felt like part of my home.

It felt like a trap. I don’t believe my children would ever hurt me, I said weakly. Victor’s voice softened.

I know. That’s what every parent wants to believe. But facts don’t lie.

Whoever installed this has been slowly hurting you for months. I pressed a trembling hand against the wall. The faint hum was still there, steady, merciless.

How long, I asked, until it kills me. He met my eyes. If we hadn’t found it today, maybe a few more months, maybe less.

Upstairs, I heard a soft thud, the sound of footsteps. Claire was awake. Victor’s expression hardened.

You can’t stay here another hour. We need to get you out now. For a long moment, I stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, staring into the dim space that had become unrecognizable to me.

The hum behind the wall seemed louder now, like the heartbeat of something malignant hiding inside my home. Victor touched my arm gently. Mrs. Ellison, listen to me.

We have to move quickly. Whoever did this might come down here any minute. You need to grab your essentials identification, financial papers, medications, and leave.

Don’t try to confront anyone. I could barely find my voice. If I just leave, they’ll know something’s wrong.

He met my eyes, calm but firm. Better that they suspect you’re upset than find out you’ve discovered their plan. Once they realize that, they’ll have nothing to lose.

I felt my stomach twist. Claire’s upstairs. She’ll see me packing.

Tell her you’re going to the pharmacy or visiting a friend. Keep your tone normal. I’ll stay near the kitchen and make sure she doesn’t follow you.

I nodded shakily and climbed the stairs. Each step groaned beneath my feet, echoing in my ears like a countdown. The sunlight through the hallway windows looked too bright, almost mocking.

In my bedroom, I opened the small wall safe behind the framed photo of Robert. My hands trembled as I pulled out the envelope with my will, the deed to the farmhouse, insurance papers, and a stack of savings bonds. I stuffed them into my leather handbag along with a few clothes, my jewelry box, and a photograph of my children when they were little, both laughing, both innocent.

Mom? Claire’s voice floated from the hallway. Are you up? I thought I heard someone downstairs. I froze.

It’s the electrician. I called, forcing a steady tone. He’s fixing the wiring.

Oh. Her voice softened. Do you want me to make some tea? No, sweetheart.

I’m fine. I paused, then added, I might go out for a bit later, just to get some air. Okay, mom, she said lightly.

But there was something off in her tone, too sweet, too careful. I zipped my bag and glanced around the room one last time. This place, once my sanctuary, now felt suffocating.

When I reached the kitchen, Victor was pretending to tighten a fixture near the sink. Claire was in the living room scrolling through her phone. Her eyes flicked toward us, curious but not suspicious.

I’m heading out for a while, I said casually, holding my handbag. Need a ride? She offered. No, I’ll manage, I replied with a small smile.

As soon as the front door closed behind me, Victor followed, toolbox in hand. He guided me quickly toward his van parked across the street. Only when we were safely inside did I exhale, my entire body trembling.

Where are we going? I whispered. Victor started the engine. Somewhere quiet where we can talk.

And then, he said, glancing in the rearview mirror. We figure out how to prove what’s been happening to you before they realize you’re gone. We drove in silence for several miles, the farmhouse shrinking in the distance, until it vanished behind the rolling Pennsylvania fields.

I couldn’t stop shaking. Every memory of laughter, every Christmas morning, every night I tucked my children into bed, all of it felt poisoned now. Victor pulled into a small diner on the edge of town, the kind of place where no one asks questions, and the smell of coffee lingered in the air.

We sat in a corner booth far from the windows. I wrapped my hands around a warm mug as if it could steady me. He spoke first.

We can’t go to the police yet. Not without evidence they can hold in court. Right now, it’s your word against your children’s, and they’ll call it delusion.

We need something undeniable. Photos. Recordings.

Documents. I swallowed hard. So you’re saying we go back? He nodded slowly.

I’ll go. They know me as the electrician. It won’t seem strange if I stop by again, claiming I forgot a tool or need to check a connection.

The thought of him returning there made me sick with worry. They’re dangerous, Victor. He gave me a faint smile.

So am I when it comes to justice. After lunch, he drove me to a quiet roadside motel near the highway. The sign read, Meadow Inn Weekly Rates Available.

The clerk barely looked up when Victor paid in cash and signed the room under his name. Room 12 smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and loneliness. Stay here, he instructed.

Lock the door. If they call or text, answer like everything’s normal. Don’t tell them where you are.

I nodded. And you? I’ll be back before dark, he said, with proof. When the door closed behind him, I felt the silence press down like a physical weight.

I sat on the bed clutching my handbag, staring at the floral wallpaper that blurred through my tears. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own children. Hours crawled by.

At four o’clock, my phone buzzed Claire’s name on the screen. Mom, where are you? Daniel says the electrician came back. Are you okay? I typed back quickly.

I’m fine, sweetheart. Just running errands. What errands? She replied within seconds.

Want me to meet you? The kindness in her words felt rehearsed now, a language of deceit I no longer recognized. My hands shook so badly I almost dropped the phone. I typed, no need.

I’ll be home later. At six, Victor finally called. His voice was tense.

Mrs. Ellison, I got the evidence, photos, recordings, even something written. But there’s more. They were talking in the kitchen while I was in the basement.

My heart pounded. What did they say? They know something’s wrong. They said you’re acting strange.

And worse, Claire told Daniel, it’s time to speed things up. Speed things up? I repeated, my voice cracking. Yes, he said quietly.

They’re planning something tonight. My grip tightened around the phone. Tonight? I whispered.

What do you mean, tonight? Victor’s voice came through low and urgent. I don’t know the details yet, but they talked about a final step. Daniel mentioned a fuse trip or something that would end things quickly.

Whatever it is, you can’t go anywhere near that house again. The air in the motel room felt thin. They’re my children, I murmured, though the words sounded hollow now.

Right now, they’re people who have convinced themselves you’re worth more dead than alive. Victor said flatly, you have to accept that before we can keep you safe. I sank onto the bed, my heart hammering.

What do we do? I’m heading to the police, he said. But I want you ready in case they find you before I get there. Don’t open the door for anyone.

Keep your phone closed. And if anything feels wrong, call me or 911 immediately. I promised I would, but promises don’t stop fear from crawling under your skin.