made me see danger where there was none? But then I remember the blinking light above the bed. I remember the message from the host. I remember the red dot
hidden in the photos. And I know something was not right in that house.
That is the most important part of the story, and it belongs near the end: it was not just the hidden device that broke our sense of safety, but everything that followed. The blinking light, the strange message about “they,” the red dot behind the
