18

18

A s Flora reaches awkwardly behind the crib to unplug the monitor from its outlet, she has a sudden pang of doubt.

"What if I'm wrong?" she asks Jodi, who still holds a squirmy Iris in the carrier nearby. "Should we wait? See if you can hear the voice, too?"

"I don't see a downside to unplugging the thing either way," Jodi says. Iris is complaining full on now, clearly getting hungry, so Jodi bounces and dances to distract her.

Flora pauses with her hand on the plug. Her body is squeezed between the crib and the wall, torqued so she can reach the outlet. And then, as if answering her very question, the man's voice crackles from the camera.

"… Iris, my girl… night-night…" The smooth, quiet voice emerging from the whispers would almost be comforting if it wasn't so horrifying.

Flora's eyes flash toward the camera. It's pointed toward the empty crib, so the man has no idea she is standing mere inches from the lens.

"Unplug the damn thing!" Jodi shouts.

"So you can hear—?" Flora asks as she simultaneously loosens the plug from the outlet with a hurried back-and-forth motion.

"Yes, of course I can hear that! He knows her name ! How long has this been going on? I can't believe you let him watch her for as long as you did."

Mission accomplished, Flora stands and frees herself from the confines of the space behind the crib.

"I didn't let him do anything. I didn't… I wasn't sure if it was real. The first time, I came up here and there were all these bugs…" Her voice trails off. She's barely making sense to herself. Maybe this is her fault. She's the one who picked the monitor. She should have known this could happen—she should have at least guessed. She didn't read enough reviews. She didn't do enough research.

Jodi pulls a now-screaming Iris from the carrier and says to Flora sternly, "She needs to eat."

"I know, yes, okay. Let me warm up a bottle." Flora makes her way out of the nursery. Iris's cries pulse in a steady rhythm of complaint behind her.

"Can't you just put her on your breast?" Jodi asks as she follows Flora down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Flora grabs the pitcher of pumped milk from the fridge and assembles a bottle. As she sticks it into the warmer, she takes a deep breath to keep herself from unraveling.

"Mom. I told you. Nursing didn't work for me."

"I just don't understand that," Jodi says, wrestling Iris into the nearby baby swing. "How does it not work ? Breastfeeding was the most natural thing in the world for me."

"Well, gold star for you, then." Flora stares hard at the warmer's timer as it clicks down. The hot water swirls around the bottle.

"It just seems cruel to make her wait," Jodi says. "And isn't the bond with nursing important? I felt so connected to you when I breastfed."

Jesus Mom I fucking get it I feel shitty enough about this as it is

"Yeah, I don't know. I worried about that, too. But. You know. My nipples were infected. Literally infected, so."

The timer still has two minutes left on it, but Flora pulls the bottle out to feel the sides. Warm enough. She's more in a rush to shut up Jodi than the screaming baby.

She leads Jodi to the living room, drops a burp cloth on her lap, and turns quickly back toward the swing. Iris is now red in the face. Flora grips her strongly, then lifts and places the baby into her mother's lap. Iris immediately takes the bottle, her face pruning into a tight contraction as she sucks with so much force that she has to pull off and cough within only a few seconds.

Jodi coos, "I know, sweetie, you were so hungry, weren't you? You shouldn't have to wait, I agree." The words are obviously directed at Flora.

Flora collapses into the neighboring love seat and takes out her phone, where she's immediately pulled into a deep rabbit hole of cybersecurity and hacking horror stories. Her stomach twists with repulsion and fury. Some man somewhere in the world has been watching her baby daughter sleep, has been whispering things to her. Has Iris already internalized his words on some deep subconscious level? Is she already traumatized? This perfect, untouched creature already wounded by the world—and all while her mother was under the same roof, tricked into believing she had been keeping her daughter safe.

"I wonder if we need to disconnect the Wi-Fi," Flora says, and Jodi looks up as if she had forgotten Flora was in the room. "It looks like since that guy was able to hack into the system, other people could, too, so we need to reset things—passwords, something about IP addresses. I don't really know."

"Whatever you think," Jodi says, her attention back on Iris.

"I'm asking what you think," Flora says, annoyed. "Connor usually deals with this stuff."

"So just turn it off until he gets home. We can go without internet for a few days."

Flora's gut flutters. "Can we, though?"

She thinks of all the times she has asked Mother Google for advice. The 5G signal is weak here at the house; she won't be able to browse the internet without Wi-Fi. What if Iris spikes a fever? What if her poop suddenly changes color? Flora hastily takes screenshots of various feeding charts and sleep cycle diagrams as insurance.

"Yes, Flora, we'll be fine. Although"—Jodi looks up and smiles—"we might have to buy our own groceries."

"Mom, this isn't funny. I'm kinda freaking out," Flora says.

"Okay, then, don't turn off the internet. I thought you wanted to. I don't know what I'm supposed to say here, Flora." Then, quieter and more playfully to Iris, "I never know what I'm supposed to say, do I?"

Flora sighs audibly. "Never mind, I'll figure it out, it'll be fine."

She heads for the cabinet that houses the router when another thought emerges: she should try to call Connor one more time. Once the Wi-Fi is off, he won't be able to reach her.

"I'm just gonna call Connor and let him know. So he doesn't worry," she says to Jodi, who continues to stare at Iris. Flora doubts her mother has heard her.

In fact, it is becoming increasingly apparent that Jodi would be content if Flora wasn't here at all.