Cambrotv.com -

Ten seconds later, the reply came:

Elias felt a cold knot form in his stomach. He tried to close the laptop. The screen dimmed, but did not turn off. The nursery feed was gone. Now it showed a mirror image of his own bedroom. The angle was from the ceiling, looking down. cambrotv.com

“Shh,” he’ll say. “We’re live.” Ten seconds later, the reply came: Elias felt

It wasn't a child's smile. It was the smile of a ventriloquist’s dummy—an expression that knew it was supposed to be happy but had forgotten why. The boy raised a single finger to his lips and whispered, “Shh. They're listening through the router.” The nursery feed was gone

On the screen, a newborn baby lay in a crib. But the baby’s eyes were open—too wide, too dry. And behind the baby, standing in the shadows of the nursery, were figures. Dozens of them. They were not parents. They were not ghosts. They were the previous viewers. Their faces were slack, their pupils replaced by the black of an unloaded JPEG. They stood in a silent semicircle, watching the baby watch them.