While babysitting my nephew Micah at 3 a.m., the baby monitor suddenly flickered on. Micah was sleeping peacefully—yet a crackly voice whispered, “He’s not okay.” I froze. The house was dead silent. Heart pounding, I called my sister, Irina. Before I could explain, she cut me off: “Grab Micah, get to the car, lock the doors, and call 911!”
I didn’t wait. I scooped Micah up and ran barefoot to the car, locking the doors and dialing 911 with shaking hands. As I waited, the house loomed behind me, every shadow suspicious. When the police arrived, they searched the house but found no sign of a break-in. Everything was locked from the inside.
Irina arrived soon after, clearly shaken. She explained that her ex, Dorian, had been stalking her for months—calling, showing up unannounced, and even trying to break in. When asked if he could access the monitor, her face went pale. “He gave it to us when Micah was born,” she whispered.
Police took the monitor for investigation. By morning, detectives confirmed our worst fear: Dorian had installed remote access and had been secretly spying through the camera and mic. He was arrested two days later.
But that wasn’t the end. During interrogation, Dorian insisted, “That voice wasn’t me,” and detectives found that his remote access hadn’t been triggered when the whisper came through. That night, something else had spoken through the monitor. Something no one could explain.
