Chapter 1

The screens in the security room were blinding. Fifty-two cameras across the entire complex flickered simultaneously. Infrared dots blinked in the dark like a pack of eyes lurking in the shadows.

Gus, the security guard, pointed at a man in a gray hoodie on the screen. “Look at this guy. He leaves every morning at six and comes back at ten at night. He never says a word to anyone.”

“I’ve worked here for six months, managing over four hundred units, and he’s the only one who never orders takeout,” Gus added.

Two weeks later, Eleanor Miller, the head of the HOA, posted his face in the neighborhood group chat. She added a caption in bold red letters: ‘SUSPICIOUS PERSON. EVERYONE STAY ALERT.’

She had no idea that the man in the gray hoodie was me. The neighborhood was about to be taken over by its “most suspicious resident,” and the story was just beginning.

###1.

My name is Silas Mercer.

When I moved into Harbor View Heights six months ago, I brought three cardboard boxes, an old laptop, and a black USB drive. The mover helped me carry my gear into unit 1802.

He stood in the middle of the living room and looked around. “Boss, how come you aren't installing any cameras in here?”

“I don't need them,” I replied.

“Every household in this complex has them. The HOA has a new policy where they reimburse seventy percent of the cost for security cameras.”

I told him no again.

After he left, I unscrewed the back of my router and plugged a device into the USB port. It had a black casing, the edges worn smooth from use. A line of text popped up on my screen: ‘Device connected. Automatic backup initiated.’

The next morning at six, I headed down for a run. When the elevator reached the lobby, the doors opened to a woman standing there. She was in her fifties with a tight perm, holding a laminated sheet of paper.

She glanced at my gray hoodie and then looked me up and down. “Are you new here?”

“Yeah.”

“Which building and unit?”

“Building 3, Unit 1802.”

She handed me the paper. It was a QR code for the neighborhood group chat with a slogan printed at the top: ‘Harbor View―Safety through Vigilance.’ I scanned the code and joined.

The first message in the group was from Eleanor Miller.

@Everyone: “There have been a lot of suspicious people in the complex lately. Please keep an eye out for non-residents. If you see strangers near a neighbor's door, loitering in the garage, or digging through trash, take a photo and post it here immediately.”

Seven or eight messages followed. People posted photos of delivery guys and Uber Eats drivers.

One neighbor even took a photo of someone walking a dog, claiming the breed didn't look like it belonged in the complex. The caption read: “This guy says he lives in Building 7, but I’ve never seen him. His dog looks like a stray. Nobody here keeps mutts.”

I scrolled through the messages and locked my phone. Then, I started my run.

On my third lap, the lights in the security booth flickered on. Gus pointed a flashlight at me. “Hold it right there. Which unit are you in?”

“Building 3, 1802.”

“What are you doing out here at six in the morning?”

“Running.”

“I’ve worked the night shift here for eight years. You must be new because I haven’t seen you around.” He stepped closer, the beam of the flashlight moving from my face down to my gray hoodie. “How long have you lived here?”

“Six months.”

He didn't say anything, but he didn't move the flashlight either.

I pulled my phone out and opened the resident app to show my verified status. A green checkmark appeared: ‘Building 3, 1802. Silas Mercer. Verified.’ He finally lowered the light.

I kept running. On my fifth lap, I glanced back. Gus was still standing in the booth, his phone screen glowing with the interface of the HOA group chat.

The next morning, my photo appeared in the group. Eleanor Miller was the one who posted it.

“Does anyone know this resident? He’s out at 6 AM every day in a gray hoodie and baseball cap. He never orders food or shops online. He doesn't talk to anyone. Everyone, stay alert.”

Three comments followed. The first: “Never seen him.” The second: “Now that you mention it, he is weird. I've never bumped into him.” The third: “My doorbell camera caught him once. He definitely looks off.”

I put my phone down. I walked to the window and pulled the curtains shut.