Liz's Insight
But given the context and his past month's behavior—constant phone checks, password changes, nightmares, distant looks—was it just fear of my "paranoia"? What lay beneath that fear? "Liz," I looked up through tears. "David... has been truly off lately. Even without this projector mess, he's different. He..." Footsteps approached outside, stopping near the door. David's weary, earnest voice followed. "Liz, could... Annie and I talk alone?" Liz glanced at me, her eyes questioning.


Buried Apprehensions
I nodded after a pause. Liz patted my shoulder and left. David entered, leaving the door ajar. Alone in the cramped space, with lingering tears and silence, he hung his head, hands in pockets like a chastened child. Finally, he met my gaze—eyes bloodshot, laden with guilt. "I'm sorry," he rasped. "I... saw it long ago. In that crack." He glanced toward the bedroom. "I thought... maybe a broken AC remote or old phone part... paid no mind... just pushed it back."


David's Plea
He licked dry lips, pain etched on his face. "I lied. Said I hadn't seen it. Because..." He drew a shaky breath. "For over a month, I knew you suspected me. Your probes. Your eyes... like I was a criminal." My heart clenched. "I was terrified!" His voice broke, trembling. "Terrified if I admitted seeing it, you'd doubt me more! Think I was covering up! Conclude I'd planted it!" "The more I denied, the less you believed, the more scared I got... couldn't sleep, woke from nightmares of you pointing at me, calling me a monster... saying I'd ruined everything..."

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