I stamped my foot, a surge of panic rising in my throat. It was too late. The second the power returned, the hallway cameras would reactivate, and I’d be exposed. My hands trembling, I scrambled to put everything back as it was. I locked the drawer, gave the desk one last check, then hurried to place the keys back in the statue's hidden compartment. Slipping out of the study, I scurried back to the master bedroom. My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to burst. A salty, metallic taste flooded my mouth. I started to climb into bed, but then it hit me—the camera was still submerged in water. I rushed into the bathroom, fished the camera out of the water, and gave it a few hard shakes. I wrung it out in a towel, absorbing every last drop of moisture, before putting it back in its original spot. I prayed it wasn't durable enough to survive its 'drowning'—that it was completely fried. Only then did I push the chair back to the vanity. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, pressing a hand to my chest and gasping for air like a dying fish out of water. In that moment, a sudden, profound sorrow washed over me. I stared wide-eyed into the gloom as despair and helplessness pressed in from all sides, crushing me until I could no longer keep up the pretense. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Even as I cried, I had to keep one ear cocked for any sound from outside, terrified they would return and find me in this state, a heartbroken wreck. The next day. I woke early, roused by a gnawing hunger. I hadn't touched my dinner the night before, and Zhao Mingzhen hadn't come to force the medicine down my throat. I had no idea what time they’d gotten back, or when the power had been restored. Perhaps it was because I had cried myself to exhaustion, or maybe because I’d finally contacted Hai Zhen and felt a flicker of security, but for whatever reason, I had slept surprisingly well. When Zhao Mingzhen came in with the medicine, I asked her deliberately, “Did I not eat last night? Why am I so hungry again?” Hearing this, Zhao Mingzhen smiled and said, with feigned seriousness, “You ate very little last night. Said you were still full from lunch and couldn't digest it!” The words caught in my throat. I clenched my fists, seething, and cursed her silently in my head. *You bastard. You’ll get what’s coming to you one day.* “Just leave it there,” I instructed her coolly. “I’ll drink it after I use the restroom. Go get me a glass of milk.” With that, I threw back the covers, got out of bed, and walked into the bathroom. I heard her leave the room, then quickly grabbed a towel, soaked it, and wrung it dry. Stepping back out, I poured the medicine into the damp cloth. Just to be safe, I mimed the action of drinking from the empty bowl. Back in the bathroom, as I rinsed the towel, a thought struck me: I needed to save some of the medicine for Hai Zhen to take as proof. I had just finished washing the towel and gotten back into bed when Zhao Mingzhen returned with the milk. Her eyes deliberately flickered to the empty medicine bowl. I took the milk, sipped it, and asked nonchalantly, “And where is he?” “He went out,” she answered, then immediately scolded Ruiwa. “Ruiwa, what are you doing up there? You’re getting more mischievous by the day! Get down from there, now!” I looked up and saw that Ruiwa had, at some point, leaped to the top of the cabinet. It was staring down at the yelling Zhao Mingzhen with an air of cold disdain. My heart skipped a beat, and a surge of delight coursed through me. This cat truly was my lucky star, a guardian angel sent from the heavens. Zhao Mingzhen shot the cat a helpless glance, muttering under her breath. She picked up the two bowls, turned, and headed out, saying over her shoulder, “Breakfast is almost ready.” I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination, but her attitude today seemed tinged with arrogance. It felt like a blatant provocation. As soon as she was gone, I called out to Ruiwa while getting out of bed. I walked slowly to the display cabinet, pretending to coax the cat down. Then I picked up a book and tossed it upwards—not at the cat, but at the corner where the security camera was hidden. The book landed with a clatter of plastic and glass. Startled, the cat leaped straight down from the cabinet. A knowing smile touched my lips. I scooped up the cat and gave it a kiss, my heart soaring with triumphant joy. *Well done, my clever Ruiwa,* I praised it silently, *you’re my little secret weapon!* But aloud, I scolded, “Don’t you dare go up there again!” But I was certain of one thing: for now, the room was safe. I picked at my breakfast distractedly, careful not to eat too much and arouse suspicion. As noon approached, my anticipation for Zhou Haizhen’s arrival grew. But I waited the entire day, and she never appeared.