Betty was always a homebody, the kind who'd spend her days off nestled within the confines of her home, tidying up and cleaning without ever stepping outside.
But something was off these past few days.
Why was she coming home so late?
Could it be...?
I quickly grabbed the laptop from the passenger seat, fired it up, and pulled up the surveillance footage.
I had brought the laptop just in case I needed it.
When the screen lit up, the small courtyard was empty, the homeowner still absent.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment, I had thought Betty might have gone to the courtyard and just missed crossing paths with me.
I pulled out my phone, intending to call Betty and ask about her whereabouts, but I hesitated and eventually decided against it.
Calling Betty too often might make her suspicious, especially since I rarely contacted her when I was away on business trips due to work demands.
Sitting in the car, I couldn't stay calm.